HAPPINESS comes first by what comes into your head a long time before material BLESSINGS come into your hand.

Imperfect people are all god has ever had to work with. That must be terribly frustrating to him, but he deals with it. So should we.

The Church is not a monastery for the isolation of perfect people. It is more like a hospital provided for those who wish to get well.

Hope on. Journey on. Honestly acknowledge your questions and your concerns, but first and forever fan the flame of your faith, because all things are possible to them that believe.

Above all, never lose faith in your Father in Heaven, who loves you more than you can comprehend.

God doesn't care nearly as much about where you have been as He does about where you are and, with His help, where you are willing to go.

God expects you not simply to face the future; He expects you to embrace and shape the future--to love it and rejoice in it and delight in your opportunities.

Pure Christlike love flowing from true righteousness can change the world.

And if those children are unresponsive, maybe you can't teach them yet, but you can love them. And if you love them today, maybe you can teach them tomorrow.

The work of a mother is hard, too often unheralded work. Please know that it is worth it then, now, and forever.

Don't give up when the pressure mounts. Face your doubts. Master you fears.

In our process of spiritual maturity, our faith needs to attain bigger dimensions

Men come and go. They lie, or die, or leave you.

Live every day as if they last.

Angling is an innocent cruelty.

I let the American people down.

You can employ men and hire hands to work for you, but you must win their hearts to have them work with you.

Nobody's ever kept their sitcom character going after the show's off the air.

Do what you want to do, when you want to do it ... and not a moment sooner.

Nothing is more common than mutual dislike, where mutual approbation is particularly expected.

Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought, And with a green and yellow melancholy She sat like patience on a monument, Smiling at grief