A ship is a bit of terra firma cut off from the main; it is a state in itself; and the captain is its king.

Failure is the test of greatness.

We are off! The courses and topsails are set: the coral-hung anchor swings from the bow: and together, the three royals are given to the breeze, that follows us out to sea like the baying of a hound.

Is it possible, after all, that spite of bricks and shaven faces, this world we live in is brimmed with wonders, and I and all mankind, beneath our garbs of common-placeness, conceal enigmas that the stars themselves, and perhaps the highest seraphim can not resolve?

To be a born American citizen seems a guarantee against pauperism; and this, perhaps, springs from the virtue of a vote.

The eyes are the gateway to the soul.

Wag the world how it will, Leaves must be green in Spring.