There is a sacredness in tears

A few amber clouds floated in the sky without a breath of air to move them. The horizon was of a fine golden tint, changing gradually into a pure apple-green, and from that into the deep blue of the mid-heaven.

With every exertion, the best of men can do but a moderate amount of good; but it seems in the power of the most contemptible individual to do incalculable mischief.

The love of a mother is never exhausted. It never changes - it never tires - it endures through all; in good repute, in bad repute. In the face of the world's condemnation, a mother's love still lives on.

It lightens the stroke to draw near to Him who handles the rod.

Villainy wears many masks; none so dangerous as the mask of virtue.

The natural effect of sorrow over the dead is to refine and elevate the mind.