Books are not men and yet they stay alive.
We are always on the anvil; by trials God is shaping us for higher things.
Conscience is the frame of character, and love is the covering for it.
Mirth is the sweet wine of human life. It should be offered sparkling with zestful life unto God.
The power of hiding ourselves from one another is mercifully given, for men are wild beasts, and would devour one another but for this protection.
Next to victory, there is nothing so sweet as defeat, if only the right adversary overcomes you.