Time, like money, is measured by our needs.

Childhood has no forebodings; but then, it is soothed by no memories of outlived sorrow.

Certainly the determining acts of her life were not ideally beautiful. They were the mixed result of young and novel impulse struggling amidst the conditions of an imperfect social state, in which great feelings will often take the aspect of error, and great faith the aspect of illusion.

Perhaps nothing ud be a lesson to us if it didn't come too late. It's well we should feel as life's a reckoning we can't make twice over; there's no real making amends in this world, any more nor you can mend a wrong subtraction by doing your addition right.

We want people to feel with us more than to act for us.

Kisses honeyed by oblivion.

We are overhasty to speak as if God did not manifest himself by our silent feeling, and make his love felt through ours.