Pride and weakness are Siamese twins.

[B]ut in literature, it should be remembered, a thing always becomes his at last who says it best, and thus makes it his own.

Whatever you may be sure of, be sure of this, that you are dreadfully like other people.

Fate loves the fearless.

Who's not sat tense before his own heart's curtain.

Time makes ancient good uncouth.

In the storm, like a prophet o'ermaddened, Thou singest and tossest thy branches; Thy heart with the terror is gladdened, Thou forebodest the dread avalanches.... In the calm thou o'erstretchest the valleys With thine arms, as if blessings imploring, Like an old king led forth from his palace, When his people to battle are pouring.