Quotes from Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Distrust that man who tells you to distrust. He takes the measure of his own small soul, and thinks the world no larger.

Distrust that man who tells you to distrust.

Feast, and your halls are crowded Fast, and the world goes by Succeed and give, and it helps you live But no man can help you die

The loves of men but vary in degrees-- They find no new expression for the flame.

God, what a world, if men in street and mart felt that same kinship of the human heart which makes them, in the face of fire and flood, rise to the meaning of true brotherhood.

That each sorrow has its purpose, By the sorrowing oft unguessed, But as sure as the sun brings morning, Whatever is-is best.

High in the heavens I saw the moon this morning, Albeit the sun shone bright; Unto my soul it spoke, in voice of warning, "Remember Night!"

Use all your hidden forces. Do not miss The purpose of this life, and do not wait For circumstance to mould or change your fate.

It is easy enough to be pleasant when life flows by like a song. But the man worthwhile is one who will smile when everything goes dead wrong.

Always continue the climb. It is possible for you to do whatever you choose, if you first get to know who you are and are willing to work with a power that is greater than ourselves to do it.

Say you are well, or all is well with you, and God shall hear your words and make them true.

For here lies the pleasure of living: In taking God's bounties, and giving The gifts back again.

God made poor woman with no heart, But gave her skill, and tact, and art, And so she lives, and plays her part. We must not blame, but pity her.

Our lives are songs; God write the words And we set them to music at pleasure; And the song grows glad, or sweet or sad, As we choose to fashion the measure.

God sent us here to make mistakes

All roads that lead to God are good.

Talk happiness. The world is sad enough without your woe. No path is wholly rough.

Love lights more fires than hate extinguishes And men grow better as the world grows old.

Whatever is a cruel wrong, Whatever is unjust, The honest years that speed along Will trample in the dust.

We laugh, we weep, we hope, we fear,And that's the burden of a year.

A poor original is better than a good imitation.

Let no man pray that he know not sorrow, Let no soul ask to be free from pain, For the gall of to-day is the sweet of to-morrow, And the moment's loss is the lifetime's gain.

You are your own devil, you are your own God, You fashioned the paths that your footsteps have trod, And no one can save you from error or sin, Until you shall hark to the Spirit within.

All hope is prayer; who calls it hope no more, Sends prayer footsore forth over weary wastes, While he who calls it prayer, gives wings to hope.