To me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian rug.

Our beloved ones have not 'gone to a far country.' It is only the veil of sense that separates them from us, and even that veil grows thin when our thoughts reach out to them.

The unselfish effort to bring cheer to others will be the beginning of a happier life for ourselves.

Christmas Day is the festival of optimism.

I am not a perfect being. . . . I have more faults than I know what to do with. I have a naughty temper. I am stubborn, impatient of hindrances and of stupidity. I have not in the truest sense a Christian spirit. I am naturally a fighter. I am lazy. I put off till tomorrow what I might better do today. I do not feel that I have been compensated for the two senses I lack. I have worked hard for all the senses I have got, and always I beg for more.

I could never stay long enough on the shore; the tang of the untainted, fresh, and free sea air was like a cool, quieting thought.

When indeed shall we learn that we are all related one to the other, that we are all members of one body?