Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small; Though with patience He stands waiting, with exactness grinds He all.

A spirit of criticism, if indulged in, leads to a censoriousness of disposition that is destructive of all nobler feeling. The man who lives to find faults has a miserable mission.

All the means of action -- the shapeless masses -- the materials -- lie everywhere about us. What we need is the celestial fire to change the flint into the transparent crystal, bright and clear. That fire is genius.

Truly, this world can go on without us, if we would but think so.

In the long run men hit only what they aim at.

So Nature deals with us, and takes away Our playthings one by one, and by the hand Leads us to rest.

Make not thyself the judge of any man.