A sharp spear needs no polish.

Thinking can only serve to measure out the helplessness of thought.

The acorn of ambition often grows into an oak from which men hang.

As I grow older, I regret to say that a detestable habit of thinking seems to be getting a hold of me.

There are things and there are faces which, when felt or seen for the first time, stamp themselves upon the mind like a sun image on a sensitized plate and there remain unalterably fixed.

Laughter and bitterness are often the veils with which a sore heart wraps its weakness from the world.

Strange are the pictures of the future that mankind can thus draw with this brush of faith and these many-coloured pigments of the imagination! Strange, too, that no one of them tallies with another!