There is ripe fruit over your head.

Even the utmost good-will and harmony and practical kindness are not sufficient for Friendship, for Friends do not live in harmony merely, as some say, but in melody. We do not wish for Friends to feed and clothe our bodies-neighbors are kind enough for that-but to do the like office to our spirits.

If we respected only what is inevitable and has a right to be, music and poetry would resound along the streets.

The setting sun is reflected from the windows of the alms-house as brightly as from the rich man's abode.

We are not what we are, nor do we treat or esteem each other for such, but for what we are capable of being.

Your richest veins don't lie nearest the surface.

We are always paid for our suspicion by finding what we suspect.