The essence of justice is mercy.

The loss of fortune to a true man is but the trumpet challenge to renewed exertion, not the thunder stroke of destruction.

The productions of the press, fast as steam can make and carry them, go abroad through all the land, silent as snowflakes, but potent as thunder. It is an additional tongue of steam and lightning, by which a man speaks his first thought, his instant argument or grievance, to millions in a day.

In some way the secret vice exhales its poison; and the evil passion, however cunningly masked, stains through to the surface.

No man knows the genuineness of his convictions until he has sacrificed something for them.

Most men are less afraid of ghosts than of facts.

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