Expression is the mystery of beauty.

We tell our triumphs to the crowds, but our own hearts are the sole confidants of our sorrows.

Genius has no brother.

Life, that ever needs forgiveness, has, for its first duty, to forgive.

The veil which covers the face of futurity is woven by the hand of mercy.

A mind once cultivated will not lie fallow for half an hour.

More is got from one book on which the thought settles for a definite end in knowledge, than from libraries skimmed over by a wandering eye.