Be He nowhere else, God is in all that liberates and lifts, in all that humbles, sweetens, and consoles.

There is nothing so desperately monotonous as the sea, and I no longer wonder at the cruelty of pirates.

Not suffering, but faint heart, is worst of woes.

In creating, the only hard thing is to begin: a grass blade's no easier to make than an oak.

It is only the intellect that can be thoroughly and hideously wicked. It can forget everything in the attainment of its ends. The heart recoils; in its retired some drops of childhood's dew still linger, defying manhood's fiery noon.

Two meanings have our lightest fantasies,- One of the flesh, and of the spirit one.

It is the privilege of genius that life never grows common place, as it does for the rest of us.