The Weak Sinews Become Strong By Their

There Is A Sweet Anguish Springing Up In Our Bosoms When A Child's Face Brightens Under The Shadow Of The Waiting Angel. There Is An Autumnal Fitness When Age Gives Up The Ghost; And When The Saint Dies There Is A Tearful Victory.

Truth Is Poetry; It Is The Grandest Poetry.

Whatever Touches The Nerves Of Motive, Whatever Shifts Man's Moral Position, Is Mightier Than Steam, Or Calorie, Or Lightening.

There Are Interests By The Sacrifice Of Which Peace Is Too Dearly Purchased. One Should Never Be At Peace To The Shame Of His Own Soul--to The Violation Of His Integrity Or Of His Allegiance To God.

The Highest Genius Never Flowers In Satire, But Culminates In Sympathy With That Which Is Best In Human Nature, And Appeals To It.