In men this blunder still you find; all think their little set mankind.

We do not so much want books for good people, as books which will make bad ones better.

Everything which relates to God is infinite. We must therefore, while we keep our hearts humble, keep our aims high. Our highest services are indeed but finite, imperfect. But as God is unlimited in goodness, He should have our unlimited love.

It is doing some service to humanity, to amuse innocently. They know but little of society who think we can bear to be always employed, either in duties or meditation, without relaxation.

In grief we know the worst of what we feel but who can tell the end of what we fear?

People talk as if the act of death made a complete change in the nature, as well as in the condition of man. Death is the vehicle to another state of being, but possesses no power to qualify us for that state. In conveying us to a new world it does not give us a new heart.

Imagination frames events unknown, In wild, fantastic shapes of hideous ruin, And what it fears creates.