It is always our treasure that the lightning strikes.

...the heart has no tears to give,--it drops only blood, bleeding itself away in silence.

Talk of the abuses of slavery! Humbug! The thing itself is the essence of all abuse!

That ignorant confidence in one's self and one's future, which comes in life's first dawn, has a sort of mournful charm in experienced eyes, who know how much it all amounts to.

The longest way must have its close - the gloomiest night will wear on to a morning.

Strange, what brings these past things so vividly back to us, sometimes!

Let us resolve: First, to attain the grace of silence; second, to deem all fault finding that does no good a sin; third, to practice the grade and virtue of praise.