The stars are the jewels of the night, and perchance surpass anything which day has to show.

The morning wind forever blows, the poem of creation is uninterrupted; but few are the ears to hear it.

The laboring man has not leisure for a true integrity day by day.

There have been some nations who could do nothing but construct tombs, and these are the only traces which they have left. They are the heathen.

Even in civilized communities, the embryo man passes through the hunter stage of development.

To the virtuous man, the universe is the only sanctum sanctorum, and the penetralia of the temple are the broad noon of his existence.

Men talk glibly enough about moonshine, as if they knew its qualities very well, and despised them; as owls might talk of sunshine,--none of your sunshine!--but this word commonly means merely something which they do not understand,--which they are abed and asleep to, however much it may be worth their while to be up and awake to it.