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

What other words, we may almost ask, are memorable and worthy to be repeated than those which love has inspired? It is wonderful that they were ever uttered. They are few and rare indeed, but, like a strain of music, they are incessantly repeated and modulated by the memory. All other words crumble off with the stucco which overlies the heart. We should not dare to repeat these now aloud. We are not competent to hear them at all times.

Where on the globe can there be found an area of equal extent with that occupied by the bulk of our States, so fertile and so richand varied in its productions, and at the same time so habitable by the European, as this is?

I love you not as something private and personal, which is my own, but as something universal and worthy of love which I have found.

There is no ill which may not be dissipated, like the dark, if you let in a stronger light upon it.

It is not worth the while to let our imperfections disturb us always. The conscience really does not, and ought not to monopolizethe whole of our lives, any more than the heart or the head. It is as liable to disease as any other part.

It is in vain to dream of a wildness distant from ourselves. There is none such.