Oh, when a mother meets on high The babe she lost in infancy, Hath she not then for pains and fears, The day of woe, the watchful night, For all her sorrow, all her tears, An over-payment of delight?

To a resolute mind, wishing to do is the first step toward doing. But if we do not wish to do a thing it becomes impossible.

Give me a room whose every nook is dedicated to a book.

Happy it were for us all if we bore prosperity as well and as wisely as we endure adverse fortune.

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

"You are old, Father William," the young man cried, "The few locks which are left you are gray; You are hale, Father William, a hearty old man,- Now tell me the reason I pray."

Beware of those who are homeless by choice! You have no hold on human being whose affections are without a top-root!