What we call Life is a condition of the soul. And the soul must improve in happiness and wisdom, except by its own fault. These tears in our eyes, these faintings of the flesh, will not hinder such improvement.

Much of the possibility of being cheerful comes from the faculty of throwing oneself beyond oneself.

Souls are gregarious in a sense, but no soul touches another, as a general rule.

Since when was genius found respectable?

There are nettles everywhere, but smooth, green grasses are more common still; the blue of heaven is larger than the cloud.

If thou must love me, let it be for naught except for love's sake only.

So mothers have God's license to be missed.