Wherever men have lived, there is a story to be told

The savage in man is never quite eradicated.

At the extreme north, the voyagers are obliged to dance and act plays for employment.

All sound heard at the greatest possible distance produces one and the same effect, a vibration of the universal lyre, just as the intervening atmosphere makes a distant ridge of earth interesting to our eyes by the azure tint it imparts to it.

In winter we lead a more inward life. Our hearts are warm and cheery, like cottages under drifts.

Where shall we look for standard English, but to the words of a standard man?

A truly good book attracts very little favor to itself. It is so true that it teaches me better than to read it. I must soon lay it down and commence living on its hint. When I read an indifferent book, it seems the best thing I can do, but the inspiring volume hardly leaves me leisure to finish its latter pages. It is slipping out of my fingers while I read. It creates no atmosphere in which it may be perused, but one in which its teachings may be practiced. It confers on me such wealth that I lay it down with regret. What I began by reading I must finish by acting.