The friendly cow, all red and white, I love with all my heart; She gives me cream with all her might, To eat with apple-tart.

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

...those little people, my brownies, who do one half of my work for me while I am fast asleep, and in all human likelihood do the rest for me as well, when I am wide awake and fondly suppose I do for myself.

You can kill the body, but not the spirit.

The outer world, from which we cower into our houses, seemed after all a gentle habitable place; and night after night a man's bed, it seemed, was laid and waiting for him in the fields, where God keeps an open house.

We look for some reward of our endeavors and are disappointed that not success, not happiness, not even peace of conscience, crowns our ineffectual efforts to do well. Our frailties are invincible, our virtues barren; the battle goes sore against us to the going down of the sun.

The obscurest epoch is to-day.