To us also, through every star, through every blade of grass, is not God made visible if we will open our minds and our eyes.

The most unhappy of all men is the man who cannot tell what he is going to do, who has got no work cut-out for him in the world, and does not go into it. For work is the grand cure of all the maladies and miseries that ever beset mankind,honest work, which you intend getting done.

If I had my way, the world would hear a pretty stern command - Exit Christ.

A man--be the heavens ever praised!--is sufficient for himself.

Considering the multitude of mortals that handle the pen in these days, and can mostly spell, and write without glaring violations of grammar, the question naturally arises: How is it, then, that no work proceeds from them, bearing any stamp of authenticity and permanence; of worth for more than one day?

Science has done much for us; but it is a poor science that would hide from us the great deep sacred infinitude of Nescience, on which all science swims as a mere superficial film.

In every phenomenon the beginning remains always the most notable moment.