Like black hulks the shadows of the great trees ride at anchor on the billowy sea of grass.

The morrow was a bright September morn; The earth was beautiful as if newborn; There was nameless splendor everywhere, That wild exhilaration in the air, Which makes the passers in the city street Congratulate each other as they meet.

Like black hulks the shadows of the great trees ride at anchor on the billowy sea of grass.

The little I have seen of the world teaches me to look upon the errors of others in sorrow, not in anger. When I take the history of one poor heart that has sinned and suffered, and represent to myself the struggles and temptations it has passed through, the brief pulsations of joy, the feverish inquietude of hope and fear, the pressure of want, the desertion of friends, I would fain leave the erring soul of my fellow-man with Him from whose hand it came.

Make not thyself the judge of any man.

Often times we call a man [or woman] cold when he [or she] is only sad.

Sometimes we may learn more from a man's errors, than from his virtues.