Is there anything so wretched as to look at a man of fine abilities doing nothing?

A man's love for his native land lies deeper than any logical expression, among those pulses of the heart which vibrate to the sanctities of home, and to the thoughts which leap up from his father's graves.

Pure felicity is reserved for the heavenly life; it grows not in an earthly soil.

A great many men - some comparatively small men now - if put in the right position, would be Luthers and Columbuses.

Truth is poetry; it is the grandest poetry.

The devil has been painted swarthy, cloven-footed, horned, and hideous. Do we expect to see him in that shape? O, surely it would be better for us, if he did come in that shape! The trouble is the devil never does come in that shape. He comes by chance, with unregistered signals, and in all sorts of counterfeit presentiments.

It is the penalty of fame that a man must ever keep rising. "Get a reputation, and then go to bed," is the absurdest of all maxims. "Keep up a reputation or go to bed, "would be nearer the truth.