In The Man Whose Childhood Has Known

It Is Hard To Believe Long Together That Anything Is "worth While," Unless There Is Some Eye To Kindle In Common With Our Own, Some Brief Word Uttered Now And Then To Imply That What Is Infinitely Precious To Us Is Precious Alike To Another Mind.

Our Growing Thought Makes Growing Revelation.

The Purifying Influence Of Public Confession Springs From The Fact, That By It The Hope In Lies Is Forever Swept Away, And The Soul Recovers The Noble Attitude Of Simplicity.

I Would Not Creep Along The Coast But Steer Out In Mid-sea, By Guidance Of The Stars.

The Best Travel Is That Which One Can Take By One's Own Fireside. In Memory Or Imagination.