Light.—Science and art may invent splendid modes of illuminating the apartments of the opulent; but these are all poor and worthless compared with the light which the sun sends into our windows, which he pours freely, impartially, over hill and valley, which kindles daily the eastern and western sky; and so the common lights of reason and conscience and love are of more worth and dignity than the rare endowments which give celebrity to a few.—Dr. Channing.
More light!—Goethe's last words.
Light! Nature's resplendent robe; without whose vesting beauty all were wrapt in gloom.—Thomson.
Hail! holy light, offspring of heaven, first born!—Milton.
We should render thanks to God for having produced this temporal light, which is the smile of heaven and joy of the world, spreading it like a cloth of gold over the face of the air and earth, and lighting it as a torch, by which we might behold his works.—Caussin.
Likeness.—Like, but oh, how different!—Wordsworth.
Lips.—Lips like rosebuds peeping out of snow.—Bailey.
He kissed me hard, as though he'd pluck up kisses by the roots that grew upon my lips.—Shakespeare.
The lips of a fool swallow up himself.—Bible.
Literature.—Literature happens to be the only occupation in which wages are not given in proportion to the goodness of the work done.—Froude.