Life is the jailer, death the angel sent to draw the unwilling bolts and set us free.

Now the heart is so full that a drop overfills it; We are happy now because God wills it.

The foolish and the dead alone never change their opinions.

With every step of the recent traveler our inheritance of the wonderful is diminished. Those beautiful pictured notes of the possible are redeemed at a ruinous discount in the hard coin of the actual.

Better one bite at forty, of truths bitter rind, than the hot wine that gushed from the vintage of twenty.

Be He nowhere else, God is in all that liberates and lifts, in all that humbles, sweetens, and consoles.

Worshippers of light ancestral make the present light a crime.