Strange indeed is the attraction of the forest for the minds of men.

I am not afraid of the truth, if any one could tell it me, but I am afraid of parts of it impertinently uttered.

If you want a person's faults, go to those who love him. They will not tell you, but they know.

The mark of a Scot of all classes [is that] he ... remembers and cherishes the memory of his forebears, good or bad; and there burns alive in him a sense of identity with the dead even to the twentieth generation.

But even if we take matrimony at its lowest, even if we regard it as no more than a sort of friendship recognized by the police, there must be degrees in the freedom and sympathy realized, and some principle to guide simple folk in their selection.

A horrible sense of blackness and the treachery of fate seized hold upon the soul of the unhappy student.

A Morning Prayer The day returns and brings us the petty round of irritating concerns and duties. Help us to play the man; help us to perform them with laughter and kind faces, let cheerfulness abound with industry. Give us to go blithely on our business all this day. Bring us to our resting beds weary and content and undishonored and grant us in the end the gift of sleep.