Worshippers of light ancestral make the present light a crime.

Like streams that keep a summer mind Snow-hid in Jenooary.

Ez fer war, I call it murder,- There you hev it plain an' flat; I don't want to go no furder Than my Testyment fer that. . . . . . An' you 've gut to git up airly Ef you want to take in God.

Old events have modern meanings; only that survives of past history which finds kindred in all hearts and lives.

At the devil's booth are all things sold. Each ounce of dross costs its ounce of gold.

God's livery is a very plain one; but its wearers have good reason to be content. If it have not so much gold-lace about it as Satan's, it keeps out foul weather better, and is besides a great deal cheaper.

The very gnarliest and hardest of hearts has some musical strings in it; but they are tuned differently in every one of us.