There is an ugly kind of forgiveness in this world,--a kind of hedgehog forgiveness, shot out like quills. Men take one who has offended, and set him down before the blowpipe of their indignation, and scorch him, and burn his fault into him; and when they have kneaded him sufficiently with their fiery fists, then--they forgive him.

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.

There is not a heart but has its moments of longing, yearning for something better; nobler; holier than it knows now.

A library is but the soul's burying ground. It is a land of shadows.

Storms purify the atmosphere.

Beware of him who hates the laugh of a child.

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