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

There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power.

There is a certain artificial polish, a commonplace vivacity acquired by perpetually mingling in the beau monde; which, in the commerce of world, supplies the place of natural suavity and good-humour, but is purchased at the expense of all original and sterling traits of character.

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.

He is the true enchanter, whose spell operates, not upon the senses, but upon the imagination and the heart.

The almighty dollar, that great object of universal devotion throughout our land, seems to have no genuine devotees in these peculiar villages.

Marriage is the torment of one, the felicity of two, the strife and enmity of three.