It had already occurred to him that books were stuff, and that life was stupid.

If a man goes a little too far along a new road, it is usually himself that he harms more than any one else.

What novelty is worth that sweet monotony where everything is known, and loved because it is known?

No one who has ever known what it is to lose faith in a fellow-man whom he has profoundly loved and reverenced, will lightly say that the shock can leave the faith in the Invisible Goodness unshaken. With the sinking of high human trust, the dignity of life sinks too; we cease to believe in our own better self, since that also is part of the common nature which is degraded in our thought; and all the finer impulses of the soul are dulled.

Your dunce who can't do his sums always has a taste for the infinite.

We cannot reform our forefathers.

Miserliness is a capital quality to run in families; it's the safe side for madness to dip on.