A chord, stronger or weaker, is snapped asunder in every parting, and time's busy fingers are not practiced in re-splicing broken ties. Meet again you may; will it be in the same way? With the same sympathies? With the same sentiments? Will the souls, hurrying on in diverse paths, unite once more, as if the interval had been a dream? Rarely, rarely!

Science is an ocean. It is as open to the cockboat as the frigate. One man carries across it a freightage of ingots, another may fish there for herrings.

The food of hope is meditative action.

Anger ventilated often hurries towards forgiveness; anger concealed often hardens into revenge.

The frenzy of nations is the statesmanship of fate.

Laws die, books never.

The true spirit of conversation consists in building on another man's observation, not overturning it.