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

It was a high counsel that I once heard given to a young person, - always do what you are afraid to do.

To charm, to strengthen, and to teach: these are the three great chords of might.

All things are symbols.

Thus thought I, as by night I read Of the great army of the dead, The trenches cold and damp, The starved and frozen camp,-- The wounded from the battle-plain, In dreary hospitals of pain, The cheerless corridors, The cold and stony floors. Lo! in that house of misery A lady with a lamp I see Pass through the glimmering gloom And flit from room to room. And slow, as in a dream of bliss, The speechless sufferer turns to kiss Her shadow, as it falls Upon the darkening walls.

The country is not priest-ridded, but press-ridden.

It is folly to pretend that one ever wholly recovers from a disappointed passion. Such wounds always leave a scar. There are faces I can never look upon without emotion, there are names I can never hear spoken without almost starting.