Every action has an ancestor of a thought.

The common experience is, that the man fits himself as well as he can to the customary details of that work or trade he falls into, and tends it as a dog turns a spit. Then he is part of the machine he moves; the man is lost.

In the moment when you make the least petition to God, though it be but a silent wish that he may approve you, or add one moment to your life,--do you not, in the very act, necessarily exclude all other beings from your thought? In that act, the soul stands alone with God, and Jesus is no more present to your mind than your brother or your child.

And what greater calamity can fall upon a nation than the loss of worship.

What torments of grief you endured, from evils that never arrived

The maker of a sentence launches out into the infinite.

If we walk in the woods, we must feed mosquitoes.