Her little butterfly soul fluttered incessantly between memory and dubious expectation.

There is so much to read and the days are so short! I get more hungry for knowledge every day, and less able to satisfy my hunger.

Trouble comes to us all in this life: we set our hearts on things which it isn't God's will for us to have, and then we go sorrowing.

But most of us are apt to settle within ourselves that the man who blocks our way is odious, and not to mind causing him a little of the disgust which his personality excites in ourselves.

The golden moments in the stream of life rush past us, and we see nothing but sand; the angels come to visit us, and we only know them when they are gone.

Iteration, like friction, is likely to generate heat instead of progress.

Hurt, he'll never be hurt--he's made to hurt other people.