A mother's prayers, silent and gentle, can never miss the road to the throne of all bounty.

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.

The bibliophile is the master of his books, the bibliomaniac their slave.

Laws are not masters but servants, and he rules them who obey them.

Not thine the sorrow, but ours, sainted soul! Thou hast indeed entered into the promised land, while we are yet on the march. To us remain the rocking of the deep, the storm upon the land, days of duty and nights of watching; but thou are sphered high above all darkness and fear, beyond all sorrow and weariness. Rest, oh, weary heart!

Precise knowledge is the only true knowledge, and he who does not teach exactly, does not teach at all.

Now comes the mystery.