“I was watching souls going down into the abyss as thick and fast as snowflakes falling in the winter mist.”

He who knows what God is, studies to avoid sin.

Meditate on the horrors of Hell, which will last for eternity because of one easily-committed mortal sin.

However much we suffer for the love of Jesus Crucified, it is but little.

The want of proper examination, true contrition, and a firm purpose of amendment, is the cause of bad confessions, and of the ruin of souls.’

We offend God because we do not know His greatness.

Try hard to be among the few who are chosen. Think of the eternal flames of Hell, and how few there are that are saved.

The poor should live by alms.

Writers are human. I shudder to think how I must sometimes appear to others.

I am often mad, but I would hate to be nothing but mad: and I think I would lose what little value I may have as a writer if I were to refuse, as a matter of principle, to accept the warming rays of the sun, and to report them, whenever, and if ever, they

Winter is not a season, it’s an occupation.

Blackberry winter, the time when the hoarforst lies on the blackberry blossoms; without this frost the berries will not set. It is the forerunner of a rich harvest.

I broke in with four hits, and the writers promptly declared they had seen the new Ty Cobb. I

He who marvels at the beauty of the world in summer will find equal cause for wonder and admiration in winter.

To many forms of life of our northern lands, winter means a long sleep; to others, it means what it means to many fortunate human beings – travels in warm climes.

A sap run is the sweet goodbye of winter. It is the fruit of the equal marriage of the sun and frost.