To cease to wonder is to fall plumb-down from the childlike to the commonplace—the most undivine of all moods intellectual. Our nature can never be at home among things that are not wonderful to us.

Now I want you to think that in life troubles will come, which seem as if they never would pass away. The night and storm look as if they would last forever; but the calm and the morning cannot be stayed; the storm in its very nature is transient. The effort of nature, as that of the human heart, ever is to return to its repose, for God is Peace.

It matters little where a man may be at this moment; the point is whether he is growing.

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

But I begin to think the chief difficulty in writing a book must be to keep out what does not belong to it.

To be kind neither hurts nor compromises.

The love of our neighbor is the only door out of the dungeon of self.