To a philosopher all news, as it is called, is gossip, and they who edit and read it are old women over their tea.

Let us consider under what disadvantages Science has hitherto labored before we pronounce thus confidently on her progress.

We now no longer camp as for a night, but have settled down on earth and forgotten heaven.

We saw men haying far off in the meadow, their heads waving like the grass which they cut. In the distance the wind seemed to bend all alike.

It is the characteristic of great poems that they will yield of their sense in due proportion to the hasty and the deliberate reader. To the practical they will be common sense, and to the wise wisdom; as either the traveler may wet his lips, or an army may fill its water-casks at a full stream.

Every man has to learn the points of the compass again as often as he awakes, whether from sleep or any abstraction.

The news we hear, for the most part, is not news to our genius. It is the stalest repetition.