The soul of man createth its own destiny of power; and as the trial is intenser here, his being hath a nobler strength in heaven.

The taste forever refines in the study of women.

T is the work of many a dark hour, many a prayer, to bring the heart back from an infant gone.

Gratitude is not only the memory but the homage of the heart- rendered to God for his goodness.

The highest triumph of art, is the truest presentation of nature.

I have unlearned contempt; it is a sin that is engendered earliest in the soul, and doth beset it like a poison worm feeding on all its beauty.

One gets, sensitive about losing mornings after getting a little used to them with living in a country. Each one of these endlessly varied daybreaks is an opera but once performed.