You Are In Every Line I Have

... Natural Affections And Instincts, My Dear Sir, Are The Most Beautiful Of The Almighty's Works, But Like Other Beautiful Works Of His, They Must Be Reared And Fostered, Or It Is As Natural That They Should Be Wholly Obscured, And That New Feelings Should Usurp Their Place, As It Is That The Sweetest Productions Of The Earth, Left Untended, Should Be Choked With Weeds And Briers.

There Is A Sunday Conscience As Well As A Sunday Coat; And Those Who Make Religion A Secondary Concern Put The Coat And Conscience Carefully By To Put On Only Once A Week.

This Was My Only And My Constant Comfort. When I Think Of It, The Picture Always Rises In My Mind, Of A Summer Evening, The Boys At Play In The Churchyard, And I Sitting On My Bed, Reading As If For Life.

Oh! Captive, Bound, And Double-ironed," Cried The Phantom, "not To Know, That Ages Of Incessant Labour, By Immortal Creatures, For This Earth Must Pass Into Eternity Before The Good Of Which It Is Susceptible Is All Developed. Not To Know That Any Christian Spirit Working Kindly In Its Little Sphere, Whatever It May Be, Will Find Its Mortal Life Too Short For Its Vast Means Of Usefulness. Not To Know That No Space Of Regret Can Make Amends For One Life's Opportunity Misused!

One Thing About This Face Was Very Strange And Startling. You Could Not Look Upon It In Its Most Cheerful Mood Without Feeling That It Had Some Extraordinary Capacity Of Expressing Terror. It Was Not On The Surface. It Was In No One Feature That It Lingered. You Could Not Take The Eyes Or Mouth, Or Lines Upon The Cheek, And Say, If This Or That Were Otherwise, It Would Not Be So. Yet There It Always Lurked-something For Ever Dimly Seen, But Ever There, And Never Absent For A Moment.