Perhaps out there, somewhere, someone is sighing for your absence; and with this thought, my soul begins to breathe.

I desire that death find me ready and writing, or if it please Christ, praying and intears.

I rejoiced in my progress, mourned my weaknesses, and commiserated the universal instability of human conduct.

Love is the crowning grace of humanity, the holiest right of the soul, the golden link which binds us to duty and truth, the redeeming principle that chiefly reconciles the heart to life, and is prophetic of eternal good.

And tears are heard within the harp I touch.

Do you suppose there is any living man so unreasonable that if he found himself stricken with a dangerous ailment he would not anxiously desire to regain the blessing of health?

I saw the tracks of angels in the earth: the beauty of heaven walking by itself on the world.