All truth is precious, if not all divine; and what dilates the powers must needs refine.

Man may dismiss compassion from his heart, but God never will.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, but trust Him for His grace; Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face.

Could he with reason murmur at his case, Himself sole author of his own disgrace?

Tea - the cups that cheer but not inebriate.

Ceremony leads her bigots forth, prepared to fight for shadows of no worth. While truths, on which eternal things depend, can hardly find a single friend.

Absence of occupation is not rest.