Ink is the transcript of thought.

Enthusiasm is the intoxication of earnestness.

Time is a great ocean which, like the other ocean, overflows with our remains.

Habit with it's iron sinews, clasps us and leads us day by day.

There is a name hidden in the shadow of my soul, where I read it night and day and no other eye sees it.

Grief knits two hearts in closer bonds than happiness ever can; and common sufferings are far stronger links than common joys.

Man is born barbarous--he is ransomed from the condition of beasts only by being cultivated.