God often visits us, but most of the time we are not at home.

History, if thoroughly comprehended, furnishes something of the experience which a man would acquire who should be a contemporary of all ages and a fellow citizen of all peoples.

God often visits us, but most of the time we are not at home.

Solitude vivifies, isolation kills.

Reason guides but a small part of man, and the rest obeys feeling, true or false, and passion, good or bad.

God is a shower to the heart burned up with grief; God is a sun to the face deluged with tears.

The man abandoned by his friends, one after another, without just cause, will acquire, the reputation of being hard to please, changeable, ungrateful, unsociable.