God's justice, tardy though it prove perchance, Rests never on the track until it reach Delinquency.
Time'swheelsrunsbackor stops: Potterand clayendure.
A whole I planned, Youth shows but half; trust God: See all, nor be afraid!
Once more on my adventure brave and new.
All service is the same with God.
Ever judge of men by their professions. For though the bright moment of promising is but a moment, and cannot be prolonged, yet if sincere in its moment's extravagant goodness, why, trust it, and know the man by it, I say,- not by his performance; which is half the world's work, interfere as the world needs must with its accidents and circumstances: the profession was purely the man's own. I judge people by what they might be,- not are, nor will be.
A people is but the attempt of many To rise to the completer life of one; And those who live as models for the mass Are singly of more value than they all.
He guides me and the bird. In His good time!
Though Rome's gross yoke Drops off, no more to be endured, Her teaching is not so obscured By errors and perversities, That no truth shines athwart the lies.
Be sure that God Ne'er dooms to waste the strength he deigns impart.
If two lives join, there is oft a scar. They are one and one, with a shadowy third; One near one is too far.
The ultimate, angels' law, Indulging every instinct of the soul There where law, life, joy, impulse are one thing!
That we devote ourselves to God, is seen In living just as though no God there were.
Death was past, life not come: so he waited.
Day! Faster and more fast. O'er night's brim, day boils at last.
Might she have loved me? just as well She might have hated, who can tell!
When the liquor's out, why clink the cannikin?
But little do or can the best of us: That little is achieved through Liberty.
The candid incline to surmise of late that the Christian faith proves false.
All will be gay when noontide wakes anew The buttercups, the little children's dower.
I know a mount, the gracious Sun perceives First when he visits, last, too, when he leaves The world; and, vainly favored, it repays The day-long glory of his steadfast gaze By no change of its large calm front of snow.
God smiles as He has always smiled; Ere suns and moons could wax and wane, Ere stars were thundergirt, or piled The Heavens, God thought on me His child; Ordained a life for me, arrayed Its circumstances, every one To the minutest; ay, God said This head this hand should rest upon Thus, ere He fashioned star or sun.
Mid the sharp, short emerald wheat, scarce risen three fingers well, The wild tulip at the end of its tube, blows out its great red bell, Like a thin clear bubble of blood, for the children to pick and sell.
The devil, that old stager, who leads downward, perhaps, but fiddles all the way!
As if true pride Were not also humble!
Follow AzQuotes on Facebook, Twitter and Google+. Every day we present the best quotes! Improve yourself, find your inspiration, share with friends
or simply: