For even in dreams a good deed is not lost.

For all life is a dream, and dreams themselves are only dreams.

These flowers, which were splendid and sprightly, waking in the dawn of the morning, in the evening will be a pitiful frivolity, sleeping in the cold night's arms.

What law, what reason can deny that gift so sweet, so natural that God has given a stream, a fish, a beast, a bird?

One may know how to gain a victory, and know not how to use it.

'Tis not where we lie, but whence we fell; the loss of heaven's the greatest pain in hell.

For even in dreams a good deed is not lost.

Love that is not madness is not love.

When love is not madness, it is not love.

Green is the prime color of the world, and that from which its loveliness arises.

But whether it be dream or truth, to do well is what matters. If it be truth, for truth's sake. If not, then to gain friends for the time when we awaken.

What is life? A madness. What is life? An illusion, a shadow, a story. And the greatest good is little enough; for all life is a dream, and dreams themselves are only dreams.

At the point when affection is not frenzy, it is not adore.

Green is the prime color of the world and that from which its loveliness arises.

For every secret hangs in greater fear between the speaker's mouth and hearer's ear than any peril between cup and lip.

Now I see that going out into the testing ground of men it is the tongue and not the deed that wins the day.

Neither gods nor men can foresee when an evil deed will bear its fruit.

The smallest deed is better than the grandest intention.

With every deed you are sowing a seed, though the harvest you may not see.

In the final analysis there is no other solution to man's progress but the day's honest work, the day's honest decision, the day's generous utterances, and the day's good deed.

How far that little candle throws its beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world.

It is a good deed to forget a poor joke.

A good deed never goes unpunished.

The deed is everything, the glory is naught.

One brave deed makes no hero.

While we are living in the present, we must celebrate life every day, knowing that we are becoming history with every work, every action, every deed.

Western history has been a history of deed done, actions performed and results achieved.

It is futile to judge a kind deed by its motives. Kindness can become its own motive. We are made kind by being kind.

The last temptation is the greatest treason: to do the right deed for the wrong reason.

No baseness or cruelty of treason so deep or so tragic shall enter our human world, but that loyal love shall be able in due time to oppose to just that deed of treason its fitting deed of atonement.

The purpose firm is equal to the deed.

We acknowledge and bewail our manifold sins and wickedness, which we, from time to time, most grievously have committed, by thought, word and deed.

No great deed is done by falterers who ask for certainty.

We may never be strong enough to be entirely nonviolent in thought, word and deed. But we must keep nonviolence as our goal and make strong progress towards it.

He has the deed half done who has made a beginning.

Always aim at complete harmony of thought and word and deed. Always aim at purifying your thoughts and everything will be well.

For the beautiful word begets the beautiful deed.

A tree is known by its fruit; a man by his deeds. A good deed is never lost; he who sows courtesy reaps friendship, and he who plants kindness gathers love.

Day by day we should weigh what we have granted to the spirit of the world against what we have denied to the spirit of Jesus, in thought and especially in deed.

Indian names were either characteristic nicknames given in a playful spirit, deed names, birth names, or such as have a religious and symbolic meaning.

Descendants of New England pioneers are proud of their ancestry and glad to proclaim the fact that so far as the United States are concerned, New England is in deed the cradle of religious liberty.

Talking isn't doing. It is a kind of good deed to say well; and yet words are not deeds.

For even in dreams a good deed is not lost.

The attempt and not the deed confounds us.

Who made the world I cannot tell; 'Tis made, and here am I in hell. My hand, though now my knuckles bleed, I never soiled with such a deed.

If I look to see what I ever did that, for all I now know, some other man might not have done, I am utterly unable to discover the certainly unique deed.

The world, as transformed by this creative deed, is better than it would have been had all else remained the same, but had that deed of treason not been done at all.

One should see the world, and see himself as a scale with an equal balance of good and evil. When he does one good deed the scale is tipped to the good - he and the world is saved. When he does one evil deed the scale is tipped to the bad - he and the world is destroyed.

Men do not value a good deed unless it brings a reward.