In the long run men hit only what they aim at.

O thou sculptor, painter, poet! Take this lesson to thy heart: That is best which lieth nearest; Shape from that thy work of art.

Ah! What would the world be to us If the children were no more? We should dread the desert behind us Worse than the dark before.

Ripe in wisdom was he, but patient, and simple, and childlike.

Everyone says that forgiveness is a lovely idea until he has something to forgive.

Nothing that is can pause or stay.

The air of summer was sweeter than wine.