O, with what freshness, what solemnity and beauty, is each new day born; as if to say to insensate man, "Behold! thou hast one more chance! Strive for immortal glory!

O, what an untold world there is in one human heart!

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

the heaviest anguish often precedes a return tide of joy and courage.

there is no independence and pertinacity of opinion like that of these seemingly soft, quiet creatures, whom it is so easy to silence, and so difficult to convince.

The longest day must have its close — the gloomiest night will wear on to a morning. An eternal, inexorable lapse of moments is ever hurrying the day of the evil to an eternal night, and the night of the just to an eternal day.

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