Some feelings are quite untranslatable; no language has yet been found for them. They gleam upon us beautifully through the dim twilight of fancy, and yet when we bring them close to us, and hold them up to the light of reason, lose their beauty all at once, as glow worms which gleam with such a spiritual light in the shadows of evening, when brought in where the candles are lighted, are found to be only worms like so many others.

The holiest of holidays are those kept by ourselves in silence and apart; The secret anniversaries of the heart.

Difficulty on the way to victory is opportunity for God to work

Great is the art of beginning, but greater is the art of ending.

Nature paints not; In oils, but frescoes the great dome of heaven; With sunsets, and the lovely forms of clouds; And flying vapors.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting.

Art is the child of Nature.