The pen is the tongue of the hand; a silent utterer of words for the eye.

The elms of New England! They are as much a part of her beauty as the columns of the Parthenon were the glory of its architecture.

The cynic puts all human actions into two classes - openly bad and secretly bad.

There is nothing that is so wonderfully created as the human soul. There is something of God in it. We are infinite in the future, though we are finite in the past.

The reason that men are so slow to confess their vices is because they have not yet abandoned them.

You are not called to be a canary in a cage. You are called to be an eagle, and to fly sun to sun, over continents.

Adversity, if for no other reason, is of benefit, since it is sure to bring a season of sober reflection. People see clearer at such times. Storms purify the atmosphere.