What a happy and holy fashion it is that those who love one another should rest on the same pillow.

No, my little Pearl! Thou must gather thine own sunshine. I have none to give thee.

There are many things in this world that a child must not ask about.

Our Creator would never have made such lovely days, and have given us the deep hearts to enjoy them, above and beyond all thought, unless we were meant to be immortal.

Genius, indeed, melts many ages into one, and thus effects something permanent, yet still with a similarity of office to that of the more ephemeral writer. A work of genius is but the newspaper of a century, or perchance of a hundred centuries.

See! those fiendish lineaments graven on the darkness, the writhed lip of scorn, the mockery of that living eye, the pointed finger, touching the sore place in your heart! Do you remember any act of enormous folly, at which you would blush, even in the remotest cavern of the earth? Then recognize your Shame.

There is something truer and more real, than what we can see with the eyes, and touch with the finger.