A man met a lad weeping. "What do you weep for?" he asked. "I am weeping for my sins," said the lad. "You must have little to do," said the man. The next day, they met again. Once more the lad was weeping. "Why do you weep now?" asked the man. "I am weeping because I have nothing to eat," said the lad. "I thought it would come to that," said the man.

Wealth I ask not, hope nor love, Nor a friend to know me; All I seek, the heaven above And the road below me.

In every part and corner of our life, to lose oneself is to be a gainer; to forget oneself is to be happy.

It is not likely that posterity will fall in love with us, but not impossible that it may respect or sympathize; so a man would rather leave behind him the portrait of his spirit than a portrait of his face.

These are my politics: to change what we can; to better what we can; but still to bear in mind that man is but a devil weakly fettered by some generous beliefs and impositions; and for no word however sounding, and no cause however just and pious, to relax the stricture on these bonds.

The full truth of this odd matter is what the world has long been looking for and the public curiosity is sure to welcome.

In the harsh face of life faith can read a bracing gospel.