We learn words by rote, but not their meaning; that must be paid for with our life-blood, and printed in the subtle fibres of our nerves.

Shall we, because we walk on our hind feet, assume to ourselves only the privilege of imperishability?

The rich ate and drank freely, accepting gout and apoplexy as things that ran mysteriously in respectable families.

The last refuge of intolerance is in not tolerating the intolerant.

Of all forms of human error, prophesy is the most avoidable.

For what is love itself, for the one we love best? An enfolding of immeasurable cares which yet are better than any joys outside our love.

We have had an unspeakably delightful journey, one of those journeys which seem to divide one's life in two, by the new ideas they suggest and the new views of interest they open.