Success is counted sweetest by those who never succeed.
Christmas is the day that holds all time together.
We are never happy; we can only remember that we were so once.
He ate and drank the precious Words, his Spirit grew robust; He knew no more that he was poor, nor that his frame was Dust.
To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee, One clover, and a bee, And revery. The revery alone will do, If bees are few.
A man doesn’t plant a tree for himself. He plants it for posterity.
Love shall be our token; love be yours and love be mine.
Books are a finer world within the world.
Morning without you is a dwindled dawn.
Literature is my calling To hold up the mirror to my countrymen comes natural to me; and in the open field of invention I am not without hopes of giving them pleasure.