Just so sure as one puts on any old rag, and thinks nobody will come, company is sure to call.

After all, let a man take what pains he may to hush it down, a human soul is an awful, ghostly, unquiet possession for a bad man to have. Who knows the metes and bounds of it? Who knows all its awful perhapses,--those shudderings and tremblings, which it can no more live down than it can outlive its own eternity?

I 'spect I growed. Don't think nobody never made me.

Women are the true modelers of social order.

So subtle is the atmosphere of opinion that it will make itself felt without words.

Once, in an age, God sends to some of us a friend who loves in us, not a false imagining, an unreal character, but, looking through all the rubbish of our imperfections, loves in us the divine ideal of our nature, — loves, not the man that we are, but the angel that we may be.

the Lord gives good many things twice over; but he don't give ye a mother but once.