[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.

It seems to me that the bane of our country is a profession of faith either with no basis of real belief, or with no proper examination of the grounds on which the creed is supposed to rest.

Over all life broods Poesy, like the calm blue sky with its motherly, rebuking face. She is the great reformer, and where the love of her is strong and healthy, wickedness and wrong cannot long prevail.

No man can produce great things who is not thoroughly sincere in dealing with himself.

For only by unlearning Wisdom comes.

Earth's noblest thing,-a woman perfected.

To have greatly dreamed precludes low ends.