Beautiful is old age—beautiful as the slow-dropping mellow autumn of a rich glorious summer. In the old man, Nature has fulfilled her work; she loads him with blessings; she fills him with the fruits of a well-spent life; and, surrounded by his children and his children's children, she rocks him softly away to a grave, to which he is followed with blessings. God forbid we should not call it beautiful.

The endurance of the inequalities of life by the poor is the marvel of human society.

Morality, when vigorously alive, sees farther than intellect, and provides unconsciously for intellectual difficulties.

Wild animals never kill for sport. Man is the only one to whom the torture and death of his fellow creatures is amusing in itself.

Experience teaches slowly, and at the cost of mistakes.

The secret of a person's nature lies in their religion and what they really believes about the world and their place in it.

We must have the real thing before we can have a science of a thing.