We have used up all our inherited freedom, like the young bird the albumen in the egg. It is not an era of repose. If we would save our lives, we must fight for them.

There is an incessant influx of novelty into the world, and yet we tolerate incredible dullness.

If one doubts whether Grecian valor and patriotism are not a fiction of the poets, he may go to Athens and see still upon the walls of the temple of Minerva the circular marks made by the shields taken from the enemy in the Persian war, which were suspended there. We have not far to seek for living and unquestionable evidence. The very dust takes shape and confirms some story which we had read.

The world is a strange place for a playhouse to stand within it.

The authority of government . . . can have no pure right over my person and property but what I concede to it.

Our vices always lie in the direction of our virtues, and in their best estate are but plausible imitations of the latter.

It would be worth the while if in each town there were a committee appointed to see that the beauty of the town received no detriment. If we have the largest boulder in the county, then it should not belong to an individual, nor be made into door-steps.