Books are but dead bodies to you, and a library nothing but a catacomb!

There is little hope of the repentance and redemption of certain some until they have committed one or another of the many wrong things of which they are daily, through a course of unrestrained selfishness, becoming more and more capable.

When I look like this into the blue sky, it seems so deep, so peaceful, so full of a mysterious tenderness, that I could lie for centuries and wait for the dawning of the face of God out of the awe-inspiring loving-kindness.

Somehow, I can't say how, it tells me that all is right; that it is coming to swallow up all cries.

And so all growth that is not towards God Is growing to decay.

We die daily. Happy those who daily come to life as well.

It was foolish indeed - thus to run farther and farther from all who could help her, as if she had been seeking a fit spot for the goblin creature to eat her in at his leisure; but that is the way fear serves us: it always sides with the thing we are afraid of.