We are but a point, a single comma, and God is the literature of eternity.

Nothing dies so hard, or rallies so often as intolerance.

A man should fear when he only enjoys what good he does publicly. Is it not the publicity rather than the charity he loves? Is it not vanity, rather than benevolence, that gives such charities?

Half the spiritual difficulties that men and women suffer arise from a morbid state of health.

Now comes the mystery.

When our children die, we drop them into the unknown, shuddering with fear. We know that they go out from us, and we stand, and pity, and wonder.

Many a man has been dined out of his religion, and his politics, and his manhood, almost.