It is the color which love wears, and cheerfulness, and joy--these three. It is the light in the window of the face by which the heart signifies to father, husband, or friend that it is at home and waiting.
What I spent, I had; What I kept, I lost; What I gave, I have.
The religion that fosters intolerance needs another Christ to die for it.
It's easier to go down a hill than up it but the view is much better at the top.
The one great poem of New England is her Sunday.
There is a patience that cackles. There are a great many virtues that are hen-like. They are virtue, to be sure; but everybody in the neighborhood has to know about them.