Self-contemplation is apt to end in self-conceit.
The art of being happy lies in the power of extracting happiness from common things.
We are but a point, a single comma, and God is the literature of eternity.
I never knew how to worship until I knew how to love.
It is the end of art to inoculate men with the love of nature. But those who have a psssion for nature in the natural way, need no pictures nor gallereies. Spring is their designer, and the whole year their artist.
Vigilance is not only the price of liberty, but of success of any sort.