It is not the mere station of life that stamps the value on us, but the manner in which we act our part.

Weep, for the light is dead.

In the case of a creative mind, it seems to me, the intellect has withdrawn its watchers from the gates, and the ideas rush in pell-mell and only then does it review and inspect the multitudes.

An honest man you may form of windle-straws, but to make a rogue you must have grist.

All things must; man is the only creature that wills.

Forgiveness is the finding again of a lost possession.

He that is over-cautious will accomplish but very little.