Time is made up of various ages; and each thinks its own a novelty.

Life’s a voyage that’s homeward bound.

The western spirit is, or will yet be (for no other is, or can be) the true American one.

We should, if possible, prove a teacher to posterity, instead of being the pupil of by-gone generations. More shall come after us than have gone before; the world is not yet middle-aged.

In thoughts of the visions of the night, I saw long rows of angels in paradise, each with his hands in a jar of spermaceti.

Boy, take my advice, and never try to invent any thing but--happiness.

But the past is passed; why moralize upon it? Forget it. See, yon bright son has forgotten it all, and the blue sea, and the blue sky; these have turned over new leaves. Because they have no memory . . . because they are not human.