Come, come to Him who made thy heart; Come weary and oppressed; To come to Jesus is thy part; His part, to give thee rest.

What I would say is this, that the light is not blinding because God would hide, but because the truth is too glorious for our vision.

But more impressive than the facts and figures as to height, width, age, etc., are the entrancing beauty and tranquility that pervade the forest, the feelings of peace, awe and reverence that it inspires.

Moderation is the basis of justice.

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

I've been thinking about it a great deal, and it seems to me that although any one sixpence is as good as any other sixpence, not twenty lambs would do instead of one sheep whose face you knew. Somehow, when once you've looked into anybody's eyes, right deep down into them, I mean, nobody will do for that one any more . Nobody, ever so beautiful or so good, will make up for that one going out of sight.

No one is likely to remember what is entirely uninteresting to him.