See how he cowers and sneaks, how vaguely all the day he fears, not being immortal nor divine, but the slave and prisoner of his own opinion of himself, a fame won by his own deeds. Public opinion is a weak tyrant compared with our own private opinion. What a man thinks of himself, that it is which determines, or rather indicates, his fate.

The very thrills of genius are disorganizing. The body is never quite acclimated to its atmosphere, but how often, succumbs and goes into a decline.

Open all your pores and bathe in all the tides of nature, in all her streams and oceans, at all seasons.

When a shadow flits across the landscape of the soul where is the substance?

When will the world learn that a million men are of no importance compared with one man?

English sense has toiled, but Hindoo wisdom never perspired.

I could not undertake to form a nucleus of an institution for the development of infant minds, where none already existed. It would be too cruel.