The present is burdened too much with the past. We have not time, in our earthly existence, to appreciate what is warm with life, and immediately around us.

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

To do nothing is the way to be nothing.

Wherever there is a heart and an intellect, the diseases of the physical frame are tinged with the peculiarities of these.

If cities were built by the sound of music, then some edifices would appear to be constructed by grave, solemn tones,--others to have danced forth to light fantastic airs.

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

There is something more awful in happiness than in sorrow--the latter being earthly and finite, the former composed of the substance and texture of eternity, so that spirits still embodied may well tremble at it.