“Just as there comes a warm sunbeam into every cottage window, so comes a lovebeam of God’s care and pity for every separate need.”

At no time are people so sedulously careful to keep their trifling appointments, attend to their ordinary occupations, and thus put a commonplace aspect on life, as when conscious of some secret that if suspected would make them look monstrous in the general eye.

The thing you set your mind on is the thing you ultimately become.

Families are always rising and falling in America.

It is a curious subject of observation and inquiry, whether hatred and love be not the same thing at bottom.

And there I sat, long long ago, waiting for the world to know me.

She had not known the weight until she felt the freedom.

To do nothing is the way to be nothing.

I have come to see the nonsense of attempting to describe fine scenery. There is no such possibility. If scenery could be adequately reproduced in words, there would have been no need of God’s making it in reality.

No man for any considerable period can wear one face to himself and another to the multitude, without finally getting bewildered as to which may be the true.

This above all: be true, be true, be true.

Ugliness without tact is horrible.

Easy reading is damn hard writing.

The greatest obstacle to being heroic is the doubt whether one may going to prove one’s self a fool.

Life is made up of marble and mud.

Sunlight is painting.

Nobody will use other people’s experience, nor have any of his own till it is too late to use it.