It is a wonderful subduer, this need of love-this hunger of the heart-as peremptory as that other hunger by which Nature forces us to submit to the yoke, and change the face of the world.

Love has a way of cheating itself consciously, like a child who plays at solitary hide-and-seek; it is pleased with assurances that it all the while disbelieves.

The poverty of our imagination is no measure of say the world's resources. Our posterity will no doubt get fuel in ways that we are unable to devise for them.

Jealousy is never satisfied with anything short of an omniscience that would detect the subtlest fold of the heart.

Mankind is not disposed to look narrowly into the conduct of great victors when their victory is on the right side.

There are robberies that leave man or woman forever beggared of peace and joy, yet kept secret by the sufferer.

I am feeling easy now, and you will well understand that after undergoing pain this ease is opening paradise. Invalids must be excused for being eloquent about themselves.