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.

Search out the wisdom of nature, there is depth in all her doings; she seemeth prodigal of power, yet her rules are the maxims of frugality.

Hatred is the atmosphere of hell.

Memory is not wisdom; idiots can by rote repeat volumes. Yet what is wisdom without memory?

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

Better is the wrong with sincerity, rather than the right with falsehood.

I have sped by land and sea, and mingled with much people, but never yet could find a spot unsunned by human kindness.