Everyone else is just cocktails.

Laws and principles are not for the times when there is no temptation: they are for such moments as this, when body and soul rise in mutiny against their rigour ... If at my convenience I might break them, what would be their worth?

The vehemence of emotion, stirred by grief and love within me, was claiming mastery, and struggling for full sway; and asserting a right to predominate: to overcome, to live, rise, and reign at last; yes,--and to speak.

If all the world hated you, and believed you wicked, while your own conscience approved you, and absolved you from guilt, you would not be without friends.

The soul, fortunately, has an interpreter - often an unconscious, but still a truthful interpreter - in the eye.

I am not an angel," I asserted; "and I will not be one till I die: I will be myself.

Misery generates hate.