We are overhasty to speak as if God did not manifest himself by our silent feeling, and make his love felt through ours.

Our impartiality is kept for abstract merit and demerit, which none of us ever saw.

I don't feel sure about doing good in any way now; everything seems like going on a mission to a people whose language I don't know.

Vague memories hang about the mind like cobwebs.

Whatever may be the success of my stories, I shall be resolute in preserving my incognito, having observed that a nom de plume secures all the advantages without the disagreeables of reputation.

Scepticismcan never be thoroughly applied, else life would come to a standstill.

We are all humiliated by the sudden discovery of a fact which has existed very comfortably and perhaps been staring at us in private while we have been making up our world entirely without it.