“No traveler e’er reached that blest abode who found not thorns and briers in his road.”

Some people are more nice than wise.

Absence of occupation is not rest.

Absence of occupation is not rest; A mind quite vacant is a mind distressed.

What is there in the vale of lifeHalf so delightful as a wife;When friendship, love and peace combineTo stamp the marriage-bond divine?

God moves in mysterious ways His wonders to performs

The Cross! There, and there only (though the deist rave, and the atheist, if Earth bears so base a slave); There and there only, is the power to save.

…So let us welcome peaceful evening in.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust him for his grace; Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face.

It chills my blood to hear the blest Supreme Rudely appealed to on each trifling theme.

Absence of proof is not proof of absence.

Variety’s the very spice of life, That gives it all its flavor.

When nations are to perish in their sins, ’tis in the Church the leprosy begins.

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

Blest be the art that can immortalize,–the art that baffles time’s tyrannic claim to quench it.

Far happier are the dead methinks than they who look for death and fear it every day.

Vice stings us even in our pleasures, but virtue consoles us even in our pains.

It is only in the mysterious equations of love that any logic or reasons can be found.

After the first establishment of identity there comes the imperative need to lose this new-found sense of separateness and to belong to something larger and more powerful than the weak, lonely self. The sense of moral isolation is intolerable to us.

When I found out more about the Maori culture, I fell in love with it, and with the people, too.

To what greater inspiration and counsel can we turn than to the imperishable truth to be found in this treasure house, the Bible?

I have found it easier to identify with the characters who verge upon hysteria, who were frightened of life, who were desperate to reach out to another person.

Whenever I found something remarkable, I have thought it my duty to put down my discovery on paper, so that all ingenious people be informed thereof.

If I ever found a place where I belonged, that in itself would be an identity crisis to me.

One of the indictments of civilizations is that happiness and intelligence are so rarely found in the same person.