Style is the essence of man

One can descend by imperceptible degree from the most perfect creature to the most shapeless matter, from the best-organised animal to the roughest mineral.

Those who write as they speak, even though they speak well, write badly.

We can only penetrate the rind of the earth.

The style is the man himself.

Let us suppose, that the Old and New worlds were formerly but one continent, and that, by a violent earthquake, the ancient Atalantis [sic] of Plato was sunk ... The sea would necessarily rush in from all quarters, and form what is now called the Atlantic ocean.

The dog has no ambition, no self-interest, no desire for vengeance, no fear other than that of displeasing.