Spake full well, in language quaint and olden, One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine, When he called the flowers, so blue and golden, Stars, that in earth's firmament do shine.

Ambition is so powerful a passion in the human breast, that however high we reach we are never satisfied.

And when the echoes had ceased, like a sense of pain was the silence.

We have not wings we cannot soar; but, we have feet to scale and climb, by slow degrees, by more and more, the cloudy summits of our time.

A spirit of criticism, if indulged in, leads to a censoriousness of disposition that is destructive of all nobler feeling. The man who lives to find faults has a miserable mission.

I stay a little longer, as one stays, to cover up the embers that still burn.

I do not believe anyone can be perfectly well, who has a brain and a heart