Ignorance is the womb of monsters.

Victories are easy and cheap. The only victories worth anything are those achieved through hard work and dedication.

Death? Translated into the heavenly tongue, that word means life!

Home should be an oratorio of the memory, singing to all our after life melodies and harmonies of old-remembered joy.

No man is such a conqueror, as the one that has defeated himself.

As the imagination is set to look into the invisible and immaterial, it seems to attract something of their vitality; and though it can give nothing to the body to redeem it from years, it can give to the soul that freshness of youth in old age which is even more beautiful than youth in the young.

Thinking cannot be clear until it has had expression-we must write, or speak, or act our thoughts, or they will remain in half torpid form. Our feelings must have expression, or they will be as clouds, which, till they descend in rain, will never bring up fruit or flowers. So it is with all the inward feelings; expression gives them development-thought is the blossom; language is the opening bud; action the fruit behind it.