Young men know the rules, but old men know the exceptions.

The wind blows out, the bubble dies; The spring entomb'd in autumn lies; The dew dries up; the star is shot; The flight is past, and man forgot.

The preacher's garment is cut according to the pattern of that of the hearers, for the most part.

If I were dying, my last words would be: Have faith and pursue the unknown end.

The root of joy, as of duty, is to put all one's powers towards some great end.

There is a little plant called reverence in the corner of my soul's garden, which I love to have watered once a week.

Every man is an omnibus in which his ancestors ride.