O may I join the choir invisible of those immortal dead who live again in minds made better by their presence; live in pulses stirred to generosity, in deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn for miserable aims that end with self, in thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars, and with their mild persistence urge men's search to vaster issues.

We have no right to come forward and urge wider changes for good, until we have tried to alter the evils which lie under our own hands.

O the anguish of the thought that we can never atone to our dead for the stinted affection we gave them.

Conscientious people are apt to see their duty in that which is the most painful course.

What is better than to love and live with the loved? -- But that must sometimes bring us to live with the dead; and this too turns at last into a very tranquil and sweet tie, safe from change and injury.

"Heaven help us," said the old religion; the new one, from its very lack of that faith, will teach us all the more to help one another.

Power of generalizing gives men so much the superiority in mistake over the dumb animals.