We die, because we live.

Human madness is oftentimes a cunning and most feline thing. When you think it fled, it may have but become transfigured into some still subtler form.

See how elastic our prejudices grow when once love comes to bend them.

Real strength never impairs beauty or harmony, but it often bestows it, and in everything imposingly beautiful, strength has much to do with the magic.

We talk of the Turks, and abhor the cannibals; but may not some of them, go to heaven, before some of us?

They talk of the dignity of work. The dignity is in leisure.

For small erections may be finished by their first architects; grand ones, true ones, ever leave the copestone to posterity. God keep me from ever completing anything. This whole book is but a draught—nay, but the draught of a draught. Oh, Time, Strength, Cash, and Patience!