Like a bird she seems to wear gay plumage unconsciously, as if it grew upon her.

I have great hope of a wicked man, slender hope of a mean one. A wicked man may be converted and become a prominent saint. A mean man ought to be converted six or seven times, one right after the other, to give him a fair start and put him on an equality with a bold, wicked man.

You can imagine thistle-down so light that when you run after it your running motion would drive it away from you, and that the more you tried to catch it the faster it would fly from your grasp. And it should be with every man, that, when he is chased by troubles, they, chasing, shall raise him higher and higher.

Memory can glean, but can never renew. It brings us joys faint as is the perfume of the flowers, faded and dried, of the summer that is gone.

Only have enough of little virtues and common fidelities, and you need not mourn because you are neither a hero nor a saint.

Not another flag has such an errand, carrying everywhere, the world around, such hope for freedom such glorious tidings.

If there be any one whose power is in beauty, in purity, in goodness, it is a woman.