If self-knowledge is the road to virtue, so is virtue still more the road to self-knowledge.

Nothing is more beautiful than cheerfulness in an old face.

The words that a father speaks to his children in the privacy of home are not heard by the world, but, as in whispering galleries, they are clearly heard at the end, and by posterity.

I would rather dwell in the dim fog of superstition than in air rarefied to nothing by the air-pump of unbelief-in which the panting breast expires, vainly and convulsively gasping for breath.

Paradise is always where love dwells.

A scholar knows no boredom.

Music is moonlight in the gloomy night of life.