If thou tastest a crust of bread, thou tastest all the stars and all the heavens.
Go practice if you please with men and women: leave a child alone for Christ's particular love's sake!
Autumn wins you best by this its mute appeal to sympathy for its decay.
Unless you can love, as the angels may, With the breadth of heaven betwixt you; Unless you can dream that his faith is fast, Through behoving and unbeloving; Unless you can die when the dream is past- Oh, never call it loving!
A minute of success pays for years of failure.
Lose who may-I still can say, Those who win heaven, blest are they!