The squeaking of the pump sounds as necessary as the music of the spheres.

Hate can pardon more than love.

Books can only reveal us to ourselves, and as often as they do us this service we lay them aside.

The greater number of men are merely corporals.

Time is like a handful of sand - the tighter you grasp it, the faster it runs through your fingers.

I believe that what so saddens the reformer is not his sympathy with his fellows in distress, but, though he be the holiest son of God, is his private ail. Let this be righted, let the spring come to him, the morning rise over his couch, and he will forsake his generous companions without apology.

When we walk, we naturally go to the fields and woods: what would become of us, if we walked only in a garden or a mall?