To have to die is a distinction of which no man is proud.

I have learned to prize the quiet, lightning deed, not the applauding thunder at its heels that men call fame.

To sit for one's portrait is like being present at one's own creation.

Books are a finer world within the world. (1863)

Every day travels toward death; the last only arrives at it.

Everything is sweetened by risk.

We are never happy; we can only remember that we were so once.