The Athanasian Creed is the most splendid ecclesiastical lyric ever poured forth by the genius of man.

There is a thread in our thoughts as there is a pulse in our feelings; he who can hold the one knows how to think, and he who can move the other knows how to feel.

The fruit of my tree of knowledge is plucked, and it is this: “Adventures are to the adventurous.”

Mediocrity can talk, but it is for genius to observe.

Something unpleasant is coming when men are anxious to tell the truth.

That soul-subduing sentiment, harshly called flirtation, which is the spell of a country house.

Without tact you can learn nothing. Tact teaches you when to be silent. Inquirers who are always questioning never learn anything.