Joy comes, grief goes, we know not how.

If one waits for the right time to come before writing, the right time never comes.

There is no self-delusion more fatal than that which makes the conscience dreamy with the anodyne of lofty sentiments, while the life is groveling and sensual

Toward no crimes have men shown themselves so cold- bloodedly cruel as in punishing differences of belief.

The snow had begun in the gloaming, and busily all the night had been heaping field and highway with a silence deep and white.

Whoever can endure unmixed delight, whoever can tolerate music and painting and poetry all in one, whoever wishes to be rid of thought and to let the busy anvils of the brain be silent for a time, let him read in the "Faery Queen."

Those who love are but one step from heaven.