Feel it in thy heart and then say whether it is of God!

He that will not work according to his faculty, let him perish according to his necessity: there is no law juster than that.

Thought, true labor of any kind, highest virtue itself, is it not the daughter of Pain?

Also, what mountains of dead ashes, wreck and burnt bones, does assiduous pedantry dig up from the past time and name it History.

Labor is life: from the inmost heart of the worker rises his God-given force, the sacred celestial life-essence breathed into him by Almighty God!

Once turn to practice, error and truth will no longer consort together.

True friends, like ivy and the wall Both stand together, and together fall.