“AND what is so rare as a day in June? Then, if ever, come perfect days;Then Heaven tries earth if it be in tune, And over it softly her warm ear lays;Whether we look, or whether we listen,We hear life murmur, or see it glisten;”

“Not what we give,But what we share,For the giftwithout the giverIs bare.”

“Joy comes, grief goes, we know not how.”

“Things always seem fairer when we look back at them, and it is out of that inaccessible tower of the past that Longing leans and beckons.”

“By the light of burning martyrs, Christ, thy bleeding feet we trackToiling up new Calv'ries ever with the cross that turns not backNew occasions teach new duties, time makes ancient good uncouthWe must upward still and onward, who would keep abreast of Truth”

“Mishaps are like knives, that either serve us or cut us, as we grasp them by the blade or by the handle.”

“Even as the roots, shut in the darksome earth,Share in the tree top's joyance, and conceiveOf sunshine and wide air and winged things,By sympathy of nature, so do I”