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Resolve to be thyself: and know, that he who finds himself, loses his misery. -Matthew Arnold.

Journalism is literature in a hurry.

With aching hands and bleeding feet We dig and heap, lay stone on stone; We bear the burden and the heat Of the long day, and wish 'twere done. Not till the hours of light return All we have built as we discern.

This strange disease of modern life, With its sick hurry, its divided aims.

Saw life steadily and saw it whole.

Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome.

They live that they may eat, but he himself eats that he may live.

We are here on earth to do good to others. What the others are here for, I do not know.

The pursuit of perfection, then, is the pursuit of sweetness and light.

Ah, love, let us be true To one another! for the world, which seems To lie before us like a land of dreams, So various, so beautiful, so new, Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light, Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain.

Like driftwood spares which meet and pass Upon the boundless ocean-plain, So on the sea of life, alas! Man nears man, meets, and leaves again.

But each day brings its petty dust our soon-choked souls to fill, and we forget because we must, and not because we will.

All the biblical miracles will at last disappear with the progress of science.

Nature's great law, and law of all men's minds?-- To its own impulse every creature stirs; Live by thy light, and earth will live by hers!

Hark! ah, the nightingale-- The tawny-throated! Hark from that moonlit cedar what a burst! What triumph! hark!--what pain! . . . . Again--thou hearest? Eternal passion! Eternal pain!

Odin, thou whirlwind, what a threat is this Thou threatenest what transcends thy might, even thine, For of all powers the mightiest far art thou, Lord over men on earth, and Gods in Heaven; Yet even from thee thyself hath been withheld One thing--to undo what thou thyself hast ruled.

I met a preacher there I knew, and said, Ill and overworked, how fare you in this scene? Bravely! said he; for I of late have been Much cheered with thoughts of Christ, the living bread.

Children of men! the unseen Power, whose eye Forever doth accompany mankind, Hath look'd on no religion scornfully That men did ever find.

The true meaning of religion is thus not simply morality, but morality touched by emotion.

The true meaning of religion is thus not simply morality, but morality touched by emotion.