The art of motherhood involves much silent, unobtrusive self-denial, an hourly devotion which finds no detail too minute.

Clouds symbolize the veils that shroud God.

Materialism and spirituality are two pretty racquets with which charlatans in cap and gown make the same ball fly.

A grocer is attracted to his business by a magnetic force as great as the repulsion which renders it odious to artists.

Bankers are lynxes. To expect any gratitude from them is equivalent to attempting to move the wolves of the Ukraine to pity in the middle of winter.

A deist is an atheist with an eye cocked for the off-chance of some advantage.

A sick man, surrounded by those who love him, nursed by those who wish earnestly that he should live, will recover (all other things being equal), when another patient tended by hirelings will die. Doctors decline to see unconscious magnestism in this phenomenon; for them it is the result of intelligent nursing, of exact obedience to their orders; but many a mother knows the virtue of such ardent projections of strong, unceasing prayer.