A man is old when he can pass an apple orchard and not remember the stomachache.

Though old the thought and oft exprest, Tis his at last who says it best.

In vain we call old notions fudge, And bend our conscience to our dealing; The Ten Commandments will not budge, And stealing will continue stealing.

There is something solid and doughty in the man that can rise from defeat, the stuff of which victories are made in due time, when we are able to choose our position better, and the sun is at our back.

All the beautiful sentiments in the world weigh less than a single lovely action.

The victory's in believing.

I who still pray at morning and at eve Thrice in my life perhaps have truly prayed, Thrice stirred below conscious self Have felt that perfect disenthrallment which is God.