The heart needs not for its heaven much space, nor many stars therein, if only the star of love has arisen.

Sorrows gather around great souls as storms do around mountains; but, like them, they break the storm and purify the air of the plain beneath them.

Without God there is for mankind no purpose, no goal, no hope, only a wavering future, an eternal dread of every darkness.

Our birthdays are feathers in the broad wing of time.

Remembrances last longer than present realities.

For sleep, riches and health to be truly enjoyed and gratefully appreciated, they must be interrupted so the person can see that not having them is not as good as having them.

As winter strips the leaves from around us, so that we may see the distant regions they formerly concealed, so old age takes away our enjoyments only to enlarge the prospect of the coming eternity.