With all your science can you tell me how it is, and when it is, that light comes into the soul?

Nature is full of genius, full of divinity.

We cannot write well or truly but what we write with gusto.

Somehow strangely the vice of men gets well represented and protected but their virtue has none to plead its cause - nor any charter of immunities and rights.

I have not the most definite designs on the future.

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.

What a fool he must be who thinks that his El Dorado is anywhere but where he lives.