If I seem to boast more than is becoming, my excuse is that I brag for humanity rather than for myself.

Two thousand summers have imparted to the monuments of Grecian literature, as to her marbles, only a maturer golden and autumnal tint, for they have carried their own serene and celestial atmosphere into all lands to protect them against the corrosion of time.

There is no ill which may not be dissipated, like the dark, if you let in a stronger light upon it.

The cost of a thing is something called life which is given in exchange for it.

There is always some accident in the best things, whether thoughts or expressions or deeds. The memorable thought, the happy expression, the admirable deed are only partly ours.

Through our own recovered innocence we discern the innocence of our neighbors.

I delight to come to my bearings,... not to live in this restless, nervous, bustling, trivial Nineteenth Century, but stand or sitthoughtfully while it goes by.