trouble always seems heavier when it is only one's thought and not one's bodily activity that is employed about it.

When God makes His presence felt through us, we are like the burning bush: Moses never took any heed what sort of bush it was—he only saw the brightness of the Lord.

For character too is a process and an unfoldingamong our valued friends is there not someone or other who is a little too self confident and disdainful; whose distinguished mind is a little spotted with commonness; who is a little pinched here and protruberent there with native prejudices; or whose better energies are liable to lapse down the wrong channel under the influence of transient solicitations?

I like not only to be loved, but also to be told I am loved.

So shall I join the choir invisible Whose music is the gladness of the world.

Them as ha' never had a cushion don't miss it.

People who write finely must not expect to be left in repose; they will be molested with thanks, at least.