Error is a hardy plant; it flourishes in every soil.

It is sure to be dark if you shut your eyes.

Every green herb, from the lotus to the darnel, is rich with delicate aids to help incurious man.

A man looketh on his little one as a being of better hope; in himself ambition is dead, but it bath a resurrection in his son.

Reason refuseth its homage to a God who can be fully understood.

He who commits a wrong will himself inevitably see the writing on the wall, though the world may not count him guilty.

Love is the weapon which Omnipotence reserved to conquer rebel man when all the rest had failed. Reason he parries; fear he answers blow for blow; future interest he meets with present pleasure; but love, that sun against whose melting beams the winter cannot stand--that soft subliming slumber which wrestles down the giant, there is not one human being in a million, nor a thousand men in all earth's huge quintillion, whose clay heart is hardened against love.