No man can be called friendless when he has God and the companionship of good books.
God's gifts put man's best dreams to shame.
Women known The way to rear up children (to be just) They know a simple, merry, tender knack Of tying sashes, fitting baby shoes And stringing pretty words that make no sense.
Measure not the work until the day's out and the labor done.
Whoso loves, believes the impossible.
Think, In mounting higher, The angels would press on us, and aspire To drop some golden orb of perfect song Into our deep, dear silence.
He said true things, but called them by wrong names.
Best be yourself, imperial, plain and true
A woman's always younger than a man of equal years.
The charm, one might say the genius, of memory is that it is choosy, chancy and temperamental; it rejects the edifying cathedral and indelibly photographs the small boy outside, chewing a hunk of melon in the dust.
The Greeks said grandly in their tragic phrase, 'Let no one be called happy till his death;' to which I would add, 'Let no one, till his death, be called unhappy.'
Experience, like a pale musician, holds a dulcimer of patience in his hand.
Since when was genius found respectable?
God answers sharp and sudden on some prayers, And thrusts the thing we have prayed for in our face, A gauntlet with a gift in it
Smiles, tears, of all my life! - and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death
I tell you, hopeless grief is passionless; That only men incredulous of despair, half-taught in anguish, through the midnight air beat upward to god's throne in loud access of shrieking and reproach
And each man stands with his face in the light of his own drawn sword. Ready to do what a hero can.
All actual heroes are essential men, / And all men possible heroes...
An ignorance of means may minister To greatness, but an ignorance of aims Make it impossible to be great at all.
He, in his developed manhood, stood, a little sunburn by the glare of life.
He lives most life whoever breathes most air.
Who so loves believes the impossible.
You were made perfectly to be loved - and surely I have loved you, in the idea of you, my whole life long.
If thou must love me, let it be for naught except for love's sake only.
A woman is always younger than a man at equal years.