Alike to the slave and his oppressor cometh night with sweet refreshment, and half of the life of the most wretched is gladdened by the soothings of sleep.

Blunted unto goodness is the heart which anger never stirreth, but that which hatred swelleth, is keen to carve out evil.

Rashly, nor ofttimes truly, doth man pass judgment on his brother; for he seeth not the springs of the heart, nor heareth the reasons of the mind.

A babe in a house is a well-spring of pleasure.

Hatred is the atmosphere of hell.

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

Love with life is heaven; and life, unloving, hell.