One must be rich in thought and character to owe nothing to books.
Friendship is a plant that loves the sun, thrives ill under clouds.
There is virtue in country houses, in gardens and orchards, in fields, streams and groves, in rustic recreations and plain manners, that neither cities nor universities enjoy.
One's outlook is a part of his virtue.
Truth is sensitive and jealous of the least encroachment upon its sacredness.
Action and blood now get the game. Disdain treads on the peaceful name.