There are favorable hours for reading a book, as for writing it.
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining.
Life hath quicksands, Life hath snares!
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.
No man is so poor as to have nothing worth giving.
If you would hit the mark, you must aim a little above it.