The light which puts out our eyes is darkness to us. Only that day dawns to which we are awake. There is more day to dawn. The sun is but a morning star.

Friendship is evanescent in every man's experience, and remembered like heat lightning in past summers.

You think that I am impoverishing myself withdrawing from men, but in my solitude I have woven for myself a silken web or chrysalis, and, nymph-like, shall ere long burst forth a more perfect creature, fitted for a higher society.

In winter we lead a more inward life. Our hearts are warm and cheery, like cottages under drifts.

You must speak loud to those who are hard of hearing.

How meanly and grossly do we deal with nature!

Do we call this the land of the free? What is it to be free from King George the Fourth and continue the slaves of prejudice? What is it to be born free and equal, and not to live? What is the value of any political freedom, but as a means to moral freedom?