We grow gray in our spirit long before we grow gray in our hair.

In every thing that relates to science, I am a whole Encyclopaedia behind the rest of the world.

The measure of choosing well, is, whether a man likes and finds good in what he has chosen.

Is the world all grown up? Is childhood dead? Or is there not in the bosom of the wisest and the best some of the child's heart left, to respond to its earliest enchantments?

What a place to be in is an old library! It seems as though all the souls of all the writers that have bequeathed their labours to these Bodleians were reposing here as in some dormitory, or middle state. I do not want to handle, to profane the leaves, their winding-sheets. I could as soon dislodge a shade. I seem to inhale learning, walking amid their foliage; and the odor of their old moth-scented coverings is fragrant as the first bloom of the sciential apples which grew amid the happy orchard.

To be thankful for what we grasp exceeding our proportion is to add hypocrisy to injustice.

It is good to love the unknown.