All things are literally better, lovelier, and more beloved for the imperfections which have been divinely appointed, that the law of human life may be effort, and the law of human judgment, mercy.

A thing is worth what it can do for you, not what you choose to pay for it.

Once thoroughly our own, the knowledge ceases to give us pleasure.

The common practice of keeping up appearances with society is a mere selfish struggle of the vain with the vain.

Give a little love to a child, and you get a great deal back.

Imperfection is in some sort essential to all that we know in life.

He who has once stood beside the grave, to look back upon the companionship which has been forever closed, feeling how impotent there are the wild love, or the keen sorrow, to give one instant's pleasure to the pulseless heart, or atone in the lowest measure to the departed spirit for the hour of unkindness, will scarcely for the future incur that debt to the heart which can only be discharged to the dust.