A Book Is A Garden,

No Emotion, Any More Than A Wave, Can Long Retain Its Own Individual Form.

There Is Nothing That Is So Wonderfully Created As The Human Soul. There Is Something Of God In It. We Are Infinite In The Future, Though We Are Finite In The Past.

Prayer Covers The Whole Of Man's Life. There Is No Thought, Feeling, Yearning, Or Desire, However Low, Trifling, Or Vulgar We May Deem It, Which If It Affects Our Real Interest Or Happiness, We May Not Lay Before God And Be Sure Of Sympathy.

It Is The Very Wantonness Of Folly For A Man To Search Out The Frets And Burdens Of His Calling And Give His Mind Every Day To A Consideration Of Them. They Belong To Human Life. They Are Inevitable. Brooding Only Gives Them Strength.

Unfruitful Emotion Is To Be Suspected. Feeling Acts As An Impulse, As A Spur, As A Spring, And When Feelings Are Excited, And They Put Nothing Forward, They Are Sometimes Even Dangerous To A Man.