A room to myself is a luxury that I do not always enjoy.

We are all bound up together in one great bundle of humanity, and society cannot trample on the weakest and feeblest of its members without receiving the curse in its own soul.

My hands were weak, but I reached them out To feebler ones than mine, and over the shadow of my life Stole the light of a peace divine.

Slavery is dead, but the spirit which animated it still lives.

The respect that is only bought by gold is not worth much.

I find, by close observation, that the mothers are the levers which move in education. The men talk about it . . . but the women work most for it.

If we have had no past, it is well for us to look hopefully to the future - for the shadows bear the promise of a brighter coming day.

I belong to this race, and when it is down I belong to a down race; when it is up I belong to a risen race.

The true aim of female education should be, not a development of one or two, but all the faculties of the human soul, because no perfect womanhood is developed by imperfect culture.

Apparent failure may hold in its rough shell the germs of a success that will blossom in time, and bear fruit throughout eternity.

Oh, could slavery exist long if it did not sit on a commercial throne?

I love you so much when i see you i get butterflies

I've never enjoyed myself. I'm incapable of enjoying myself. There's just some people who don't enjoy themselves very much.

God never allows pain without a purpose.

I think DOOM had just the right mix of elements that keep people coming back to it: great monsters, excellent weapons with great balance, a spooky environment and extreme speed.

I started by looking at what others had done before me. You see, over the years there have been attempts by many different people to reconstruct the chariot.

I face my demons and embrace my fate.

I welcome you to the community of people who have decided that EASY will no longer suffice!

Well, the way I see it, there are three possibilities: One, you stole it; two, you stole it; or three, you stole it!

The sharp thorn often produces delicate roses.

The fame which bids fair to live the longest resembles that which Horace attributes to Marcellus, whose progress he compares to the silent, imperceptible growth of a tree.