Do you know how the naturalist learns all the secrets of the forest, of plants, of birds, of beasts, of reptiles, of fishes, of the rivers and the sea? When he goes into the woods the birds fly before him and he finds none; when he goes to the river bank, the fish and the reptile swim away and leave him alone. His secret is patience; he sits down, and sits still; he is a statue; he is a log.

Our science, so called, is always more barren and mixed with error than our sympathies.

The authority of government . . . can have no pure right over my person and property but what I concede to it.

I want the flower and fruit of a man; that some fragrance be wafted over from him to me, and some ripeness flavor our intercourse.

How can he remember well his ignorance - which his growth requires - who has so often to use his knowledge?

Many college text-books, which were a weariness and stumbling-block when I studied, I have since read a little with pleasure and profit.

Life in us is like the water in a river.