The food of hope is meditative action.

They have written volumes out of which a couplet of verse, a period in prose, may cling to the rock of ages, as a shell that survives a deluge.

The heart of a man's like that delicate weed, / Which requires to be trampled on, boldly indeed / Ere it gives forth the fragrance you wish to extract.

It is the glorious doom of literature that the evil perishes and the good remains.

Read to live, not live to read.

When one is in a good sound rage, it is astonishing how calm one can be.

Nothing is so contagious as enthusiasm.