All things are only transitory.

Smoothly and lightly the golden seed by the furrow is covered.

Napoleon affords us an example of the danger of elevating one's self to the absolute, and sacrificing everything to the carrying out of an idea.

And step by step, along the path of life, There's nothing true but Heaven.

You shall abstain, shall abstain. That is the eternal song.

Assuredly there is no more lovely worship of God than that for which no image is required, but which springs up in our breast spontaneously when nature speaks to the soul, and the soul speaks to nature face to face.

Nothing is so atrocious as fancy without taste.