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

It is the vain endeavor to make ourselves what we are not that has strewn history with so many broken purposes and lives left in the rough.

It is beginning to be doubtful whether Parliament and Congress sit in Westminster and Washington, or in the editorial rooms of the leading journals,--so thoroughly is everything debated before the authorized and responsible debaters get on their legs.

No mud can soil us but the mud we throw.

Time is, after all, the greatest of poets; and the sons of Memory stand a better chance of being the heirs of Fame.

No man can produce great things who is not thoroughly sincere in dealing with himself, who would not exchange the finest show for the poorest reality, who does not so love his work that he is not only glad to give himself for it, but finds rather a gain than a sacrifice in the surrender.

Tyrants are but the spawn of Ignorance, Begotten by the slaves they trample on.