In Men This Blunder Still You Find;

Subduing And Subdued, The Petty Strife, Which Clouds The Colour Of Domestic Life; The Sober Comfort, All The Peace Which Springs From The Large Aggregate Of Little Things; On These Small Cares Of Daughter, Wife Or Friend, The Almost Sacred Joys Of Home Depend.

Everything Which Relates To God Is Infinite. We Must Therefore, While We Keep Our Hearts Humble, Keep Our Aims High. Our Highest Services Are Indeed But Finite, Imperfect. But As God Is Unlimited In Goodness, He Should Have Our Unlimited Love.

The Ubiquity Of The Divine Presence Is The Only True Support, And I Am Sometimes Astonished How Persons, Who Evidently Do Not Possess That Grand Source Of Consolation, Keep Up Their Spirits Under Trials And Difficulties. It Must Be Owing To Careless Tempers And Nerves Of Brass.

When These Incorrigible Talkers Are Compelled To Be Quiet, Is It Not Evident That They Are Not Silent Because They Are Listening To What Is Said, But Because They Are Thinking Of What They Themselves Shall Say When They Can Seize The First Lucky Interval, For Which They Are So Narrowly Watching?

Pleasure Is By Much The Most Laborious Trade I Know, Especially For Those Who Have Not A Vocation To It.