The greatest homage we can pay to truth, is to use it.

If the devil take a less hateful shape to us than to our fathers, he is as busy with us as with them.

The nunneries of silent nooks, the murmured longing of the wood.

The brain can be easy to buy, but the heart never comes to market.

And the poorest twig on the elm-tree was ridged inch deep with pearl.

In the earliest ages science was poetry, as in the later poetry has become science.

To me it seems not unreasonable to find a re-enforcement of optimism, a renewal of courage and hope, in the modern theory that man has mounted to what he is from the lowest step of potentiality, through toilsome grades of ever-expanding existence, even thought it have been by a spiral stairway, mainly dark or dusty, with loop-holes at long intervals only, and these granting but a narrow and one-sided view.