Where Washington hath left His awful memory A light for after times!

The grave is but the threshold of eternity. What a world were this, how unendurable its weight, If they whom death hath sundered, did not meet again!

Whoever has tasted the breath of morning knows that the most invigorating and most delightful hours of then day are commonly spent in bed; though it is the evident intention of nature that we should enjoy and profit by them.

The laws are with us, and God on our side.

The pulpit is a clergyman's parade; the parish is his field of active service.

All deception in the course of life is indeed nothing else but a lie reduced to practice, and falsehood passing from words into things.

Love is indestructible, Its holy flame forever burneth; From heaven it came, to heaven returneth.