The moment when a man's head drops off is seldom or never, I am inclined to think, precisely the most agreeable of his life.

A man's bewilderment is the measure of his wisdom.

Keep the imagination sane--that is one of the truest conditions of communion with heaven.

This above all: be true, be true, be true.

To-morrow would bring its own trial with it; so would the next day, and so would the next; each its own trial, and yet the very same that was now so unutterably grievous to be borne. The days of the far-off future would toil onward, still with the same burden for her to take up, and bear along with her, but never to fling down; for the accumulating days, and added years, would pile up their misery upon the heap of shame.

The breath of peace was fanning her glorious brow, her head was bowed a very little forward, and a tress, escaping from its bonds, fell by the side of her pure white temple, and close to her just opened lips; it hung there motionless! no breath disturbed its repose! She slept as an angel might sleep, having accomplished the mission of her God.

All merely graceful attributes are usually the most evanescent.