History -- its what those bitter old men write.

Laughter and tears are both responses to frustration and exhaustion . . . . I myself prefer to laugh, since there is less cleaning up to do afterward.

It began of nothing and in nothing it ends.

Though the light and comfort of the outward world keeps even the worst men from any constant strong sensibility of that wrathful, fiery, dark and self-tormenting nature that is the very essence of every fallen unregenerate soul, yet every man in the world has more or less frequent and strong intimations given him that so it is with him in the inmost ground of his soul. How many inventions are some people forced to have recourse to in order to keep off a certain inward uneasiness, which they are afraid of and know not whence it comes? Alas, it is because there is a fallen spirit, a dark, aching fire, within them, which has never had its proper relief and is trying to discover itself and calling out for help at every cessation of worldly joy.

In America there are two classes of travel -- first class, and with children.

Doubt is the father of invention.

Others import yet nobler arts from France, Teach kings to fiddle, and make senates dance.

A benevolent man should allow a few faults in himself, to keep his friends in countenance.

Loser's visualize the penalties of failure. Winners visualize the rewards of success.

Many a night I saw the Pleiads, rising thro' the mellow shade Glitter like a swarm of fireflies tangled in a silver braid.

He who would acquire fame must not show himself afraid of censure. The dread of censure is the death of genius.

That destructive siren, sloth, is ever to be avoided.

Love always involves responsibility, and love always involves sacrifice. And we do not really love Christ unless we are prepared to face His task and to take up His Cross.

It is the growling man who lives a dog's life.

It is common for those that are farthest from God, to boast themselves most of their being near to the Church.

Great thoughts, great feelings, came to them, Like instincts, unawares.

Human history becomes more and more a race between education and catastrophe.

To-morrow is, ah, whose?

I postpone death by living, by suffering, by error, by risking, by living, by losing.

We placed the wreaths upon the splendid granite sarcophagus, and at its feet, and felt that only the earthly robe we loved so much was there. The pure, tender, loving spirit which loved us so tenderly, is above us -- loving us, praying for us, and free from all suffering and woe -- yes, that is a comfort, and that first birthday in another world must have been a far brighter one than any in this poor world below!.