How sweet, how passing sweet, is solitude! But grant me still a friend in my retreat, whom I may whisper, solitude is sweet.

Trials make the promise sweet, Trials give new life to prayer; Trials bring me to His feet, Lay me low, and keep me there.

The bird that flutters least is longest on the wing.

Satan trembles when he sees the weakest saint upon their knees.

Accomplishments have taken virtue's place, and wisdom falls before exterior grace.

It is a terrible thought, that nothing is ever forgotten; that not an oath is ever uttered that does not continue to vibrate through all times, in the wide spreading current of sound; that not a prayer is lisped, that its record is not to be found st

To follow foolish precedents, and wink With both our eyes, is easier than to think.