Civilization is the process of reducing the infinite to the finite.

Youth longs and manhood strives, but age remembers.

Man is born a predestined idealist, for he is born to act. To act is to affirm the worth of an end, and to persist in affirming the worth of an end is to make an ideal.

The year is getting to feel rich, for his golden fruits are ripening fast, and he has a large balance in the barns, which are his banks. The members of his family have found out that he is well to do in the world. September is dressing herself in show of dahlias and splendid marigolds and starry zinnias. October, the extravagant sister, has ordered an immense amount of the most gorgeous forest tapestry for her grand reception.

The sound of a kiss is not so loud as that of a cannon, but its echo lasts a great deal longer.

Youth fades, love droops, the leaves of friendship fall; A mother's secret hope outlives them all.

Put not your trust in money, but put your money in trust.