The world so quickly adjusts itself after any loss, that the return of the departed would nearly always throw it, even the circle most interested, into confusion.

Politics make strange bedfellows.

I am convinced that the majority of people would be generous from selfish motives, if they had the opportunity.

It is only the fools who keep straining at high C all their lives.

Nature is entirely indifferent to any reform. She perpetuates a fault as persistently as a virtue.

There is no moment of delight in any pilgrimage like the beginning of it.

Each age has its choice of the death it will die.