Did man e'er live Saw priest or woman yet forgive?

I tell ye wut, my judgment is you're pooty sure to fail, Ez long 'z the head keeps turnin' back for counsel to the the tail.

All God's angels come to us disguised.

It is not the insurrections of ignorance that are dangerous, but the revolts of the intelligence.

[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.

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

There is no bore we dread being left alone with so much as our own minds.