There are souls in this world which have the gift of finding joy everywhere and of leaving it behind them when they go.

Woman and men of retiring timidity are cowardly only in dangers which affect themselves, but the first to rescue when others are in danger.

Because the heart beats under a covering of hair, of fur, feathers, or wings, it is, for that reason, to be of no account?

It has been jestingly said that the works of John Paul Richter are almost unintelligible to any but the Germans, and even to some of them. A worthy German, just before Richter's death, edited a complete edition of his works, in which one particular passage fairly puzzled him. Determined to have it explained at the source, he went to John Paul himself. The author's reply was very characteristic: "My good friend, when I wrote that passage, God and I knew what it meant; it is possible that God knows it still; but as for me, I have totally forgotten."

Man's feelings are always purest and most glowing in the hour of meeting and of farewell.

Sorrows are like thunderclouds, in the distance they look black, over our heads scarcely gray.

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.