In time of peril, like the needle to the loadstone, obedience, irrespective of rank, generally flies to him who is best fitted to command.

Is he mad? Anyway there's something on his mind, as sure as there must be something on a deck when it cracks.

Madman! Look through my eyes if thou hast none of thine own.

See with what entire freedom the whaleman takes his handful of lamps-often but old bottles and vials, though. ... He burns, too, the purest of oil. ... It is sweet as early grass butter in April. He goes and hunts for his oil, so as to be sure of its freshness and genuineness, even as the traveler on the prairie hunts up his own supper of game.

Be sure of this, O young ambition, all mortal greatness is but disease.

While nature thus very early and very abundantly feeds us, she is very late in tutoring us as to the proper methodization of our diet.

I feel that the Godhead is broken up like the bread at the Supper, and that we are the pieces. Hence this infinite fraternity of feeling.