Talk not to me of blasphemy, man; I'd strike the sun if it insulted me.

Honor lies in the mane of a horse.

Woe to him who seeks to please rather than appall.

My means are sane, my motives and my object mad.

Praise when merited is not a boon: yet to a generous nature, is it pleasant to utter it.

Where is there such an one who has not a thousand times been struck with a sort of infidel idea, that whatever other worlds God may be Lord of, he is not the Lord of this; for else this world would seem to give the lie to Him; so utterly repugnant seem its ways to the instinctively known ways of Heaven.

Why is almost every robust healthy boy with a robust healthy soul in him, at some time or other crazy to go to sea? Why upon your first voyage as a passenger, did you yourself feel such a mystical vibration, when first told that you and your ship were now out of sight of land? Why did the old Persians hold the sea holy? Why did the Greeks give it a separate deity, and own brother of Jove? Surely all this is not without meaning.