There is no death! What seems so is transition; this life of mortal breath is but a suburb of the life elysian, whose portal we call Death.

The course of my long life hath reached at last in fragile bark over a tempestuous sea the common harbor, where must rendered be account for all the actions of the past.

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

A Lady with a Lamp shall stand In the great history of the land, A noble type of good, Heroic womanhood.

Through woods and mountain passes The winds, like anthems, roll.

So disasters come not singly; But as if they watched and waited, Scanning one another's motions, When the first descends, the others Follow, follow, gathering flock-wiseRound their victim, sick and wounded, First a shadow, then a sorrow, Till the air is dark with anguish.

The everyday cares and duties, which men call drudgery, are the weights and counterpoises of the clock of time, giving its pendulum a true vibration and its hands a regular motion; and when they cease to hang upon its wheels, the pendulum no longer swings, the hands no longer move the clock stands still.