Which of us is other than a secret to all but God!

But there is no veil like light--no adamantine armor against hurt like the truth.

In the midst of death we are in life. Life is the only reality; what men call death is but a shadow.

I wondered over again for the hundredth time what could be the principle which, in the wildest, most lawless, fantastically chaotic, apparently capricious work of Nature, always kept it beautiful.

It is our best work that God wants, not the dregs of our exhaustion. I think he must prefer quality to quantity.

The ruin of a man's teaching comes of his followers, such as having never touched the foundation he has laid, build upon it wood, hay, and stubble, fit only to be burnt. Therefore, if only to avoid his worst foes, his admirers, a man should avoid system. The more correct a system the worse will it be misunderstood; its professed admirers will take both its errors and their misconceptions of its truths, and hold them forth as its essence.

Few delights can equal the presence of one whom we trust utterly.