No man is so poor as to have nothing worth giving.

Time, like a preacher in the days of the Puritans, turned the hour-glass on his high pulpit, the church belfry.

He that respects himself is safe from others. He wears a coat of mail that none can pierce.

How beautiful is youth! how bright it gleams with its illusions, aspirations, dreams! Book of Beginnings, Story without End, Each maid a heroine, and each man a friend!

An enlightened mind is not hoodwinked; it is not shut up in a gloomy prison till it thinks the walls of its dungeon the limits of the universe, and the reach of its own chain the outer verge of intelligence.

The heights by great men reached and kept were not attained by sudden flight, but they, while their companions slept, were toiling upward in the night.

Art is the child of Nature.