No man is so poor as to have nothing worth giving.

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.

Therefore trust to thy heart, and to what the world calls illusions.

A great sorrow, like a mariner's quadrant, brings the sun at noon down to the horizon, and we learn where we are on the sea of life.

Intelligence and courtesy not always are combined; Often in a wooden house a golden room we find.

All things come round to him who will but wait.

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