“We turn to dust, and all our mightiest works die too.”

God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform; He plants his footsteps in the sea, And rides upon the storm.

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

Detested sport, That owes its pleasures to another’s pain.

Remorse begets reform.

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

[My kitten’s] gambols are not to be described, and would be incredible, if they could.

The only amaranthine flower on earth is virtue; the only lasting treasure, truth.

Manner is all in all, whate’er is writ,The substitute for genius, sense, and wit.

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

The only amarantine flower on earth Is virtue.

The darkest day, if you live till tomorrow, will have passed away.

The nurse sleeps sweetly, hired to watch the sick, / whom, snoring, she disturbs.

Knowledge is proud that it knows so much; wisdom is humble that it knows no more.

This fond attachment to the well-known place Whence first we started into life’s long race.

I venerate the man whose heart is warm, Whose hands are pure, whose doctrine and whose life, Coincident, exhibit lucid proof That he is honest in the sacred cause.

The rich are too indolent, the poor too weak, to bear the insupportable fatigue of thinking.

Worry, doubt, fear and despair are the enemies which slowly bring us down to the ground and turn us to dust before we die.

… if they [your children] write their names in the dust on the furniture, don’t let them put the year.

It is true that we are made of dust. And the world is also made of dust. But the dust has motes rising.

When the white man who is always the aggressor knows he runs as great a risk of biting the dust every time his Afro-American victim does, he will have greater respect for Afro-American life.

Become dust – and they will throw thee in the air; Become stone – and they will throw thee on glass.

O fools, awake! The rites ye sacred hold Are but a cheat contrived by men of old Who lusted after wealth and gained their lust And died in baseness-and their law is dust.

One’s life completely changes based on the rain. After the monsoon, because the dust settles, one can see further and so it feels like one’s eyesight has improved or that one is living in a different country where there is more light.

I always knew I was a dust. But I never knew I was also a universe.