The morning hour has gold at the mouth.

Would not the child's heart break in despair when the first cold storm of the world sweeps over it, if the warm sunlight of love from the eyes of mother and father did not shine upon him like the soft reflection of divine light and love?

There is no book in the world that is so thrilling, stirring and inspiring as the Upanishads.

That is the returning to God which in reality is never concluded on earth but yet leaves behind in the soul a divine home sickness, which never again ceases.

Not far from our house, and opposite the old church with the golden cross, stood a large building, even larger than the church, and having many towers.

Is it sin, which makes the worm a chrysalis, and the chrysalis a butterfly, and the butterfly dust?

It smote me to the heart that I had found no one in all the world who loved me more than all others.