Through our own recovered innocence we discern the innocence of our neighbors.

The man who thrusts his manners upon me does as if he were to insist on introducing me to his cabinet of curiosities, when I wished to see himself.

. . . we should be men first, and subjects afterward.

How can we expect a harvest of thought who have not had a seedtime of character?

A healthy man, indeed, is the complement of the seasons, and in winter, summer is in his heart.

We belong to the community. It is not the tailor alone who is the ninth part of a man; it is as much the preacher, and the merchant, and the farmer. Where is this division of labor to end? and what object does it finally serve? No doubt another may also think for me; but it is not therefore desirable that he should do so to the exclusion of my thinking for myself.

Our molting season, like that of the fouls, must be a crisis in our lives.