A boy is a piece of existence quite separate from all things else, and deserves separate chapters in the natural history of men.

Good nature is often a mere matter of health.

Books are the windows through which the soul looks out.

God washes the eyes by tears until they can behold the invisible land where tears shall come no more. O love! O affliction! ye are the guides that show us the way through the great airy space where our loved ones walked; and, as hounds easily follow the scent before the dew be risen, so God teaches us, while yet our sorrow is wet, to follow on and find our dear ones in heaven.

The aster has not wasted spring and summer because it has not blossomed. It has been all the time preparing for what is to follow, and in autumn it is the glory of the field, and only the frost lays it low. So there are many people who must live forty or fifty years, and have the crude sap of their natural dispositions changed and sweetened before the blossoming time can come; but their lives have not been wasted.

The head learns new things, but the heart forever practices old experiences.

The moment an ill can be patiently handled, it is disarmed of its poison, though not of its pain.