Alas! the culture of an Irishman is an enterprise to be undertaken with a sort of moral bog hoe.

When was it that men agreed to respect the appearance and not the reality?

My desire for knowledge is intermittent; but my desire to commune with the spirit of the universe, to be intoxicated with the fumes, call it, of that divine nectar, to bear my head through atmospheres and over heights unknown to my feet, is perennial and constant.

And I am sure that I never read any memorable news in a newspaper. If we read of one man robbed, or murdered, or killed by accident, or one house burned, or one vessel wrecked, or one steamboat blown up, or one cow run over on the Western Railroad, or one mad dog killed, or one lot of grasshoppers in the winter, - we need never read of another. One is enough. If you are acquainted with the principle, what do you care for a myriad instances and applications?

Nature is goodness crystallized.

Going from--toward; it is the history of every one of us.

Such a man has some right to fish, and I love to see nature carried out in him.