A truly good book teaches me better than to read it. I must soon lay it down, and commence living on its hint. What I began by reading, I must finish by acting.

We could not help contrasting the equanimity of Nature with the bustle and impatience of man. His words and actions presume alwaysa crisis near at hand, but she is forever silent and unpretending.

We are all of us more or less active physiognomists.

Speech is for the convenience of those who are hard of hearing; but there are many fine things which we cannot say if we have to shout.

Nature abhors a vacuum, and if I can only walk with sufficient carelessness I am sure to be filled.

Not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves.

How shall we account for our pursuits, if they are original? We get the language with which to describe our various lives out of acommon mint.