Though old the thought and oft exprest, Tis his at last who says it best.

Most religion-mongers have bated their paradises with a bit of toasted cheese. They have tempted the body with large promises of possessions in their transmortal El Dorado. Sancho Panza will not quit his chimney-corner, but under promise of imaginary islands to govern.

Heaven is neither here nor there to me. Everywhere and nowhere. Just not in between, But I believe in Heaven.

Solitude is as needful to the imagination as society is wholesome for the character.

A weed is no more than a flower in disguise.

All thoughts that mold the age begin deep down within the primitive soul.

Sentiment is intellectualized emotion; emotion precipitated, as it were, in pretty crystals by the fancy.