It is a sad weakness in us, after all, that the thought of a man's death hallows him anew to us; as if life were not sacred too.

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

But certain winds will make men's temper bad.

In spite of his practical ability, some of his experience had petrified into maxims and quotations.

Life is like our game at whist ... I don't enjoy the game much, but I like to play my cards well, and see what will be the end of it.

There is no feeling, perhaps, except the extremes of fear and grief, that does not find relief in music,--that does not make a man sing or play the better.

Mighty is the force of motherhood! It transforms all things by its vital heat.