Invention is nothing more than a fine deviation from, or enlargement on a fine model . . .

What mankind wants is not talent; it is purpose.

Love is on the verge of hate each time it stoops for pardon.

Emotion, whether of ridicule, anger, or sorrow,--whether raised at a puppet show, a funeral, or a battle,--is your grandest of levellers. The man who would be always superior should be always apathetic.

The man who succeeds above his fellows is the one who early in life, clearly discerns his object, and towards that object habitually directs his powers. Even genius itself is but fine observation strengthened by fixity of purpose. Every man who observes vigilantly and resolves steadfastly grows unconsciously into genius.

Fate laughs at probabilities.

And, of all the things upon earth, I hold that a faithful friend is the best.