The last, best fruit which comes to late perfection, even in the kindliest soul, is tenderness toward the hard, forbearance toward the unforbearing, warmth of heart toward the cold, philanthropy toward the misanthropic.

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

Fancy rules over two thirds of the universe, the past, and future, while reality is confined to the present

With so many thousand joys, is it not black ingratitude to call the world a place of sorrow and torment?

Poverty is the only load which is the heavier the more loved ones there are to assist in bearing it.

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.

In science the new is an advance; but in morals, as contradicting our inner ideals and historic idols, it is ever a retrogression.