Our foibles are really what make us lovable.

The history of knowledge is a great fugue in which the voices of the nations one after the other emerge.

Reality surpasses imagination; and we see, breathing, brightening, and moving before our eyes sights dearer to our hearts than any we ever beheld in the land of sleep.

An angel! Nonsense! Everybody so describes his mistress; and yet I find it impossible to tell you how perfect she is, or why she is so perfect: suffice it to say she has captivated all my senses.

Keep not standing fixed and rooted. Briskly venture, briskly roam.

What is the true test of character unless it be its progressive development in the bustle and turmoil, in the action and reaction of daily life.

Hypotheses are lullabies for teachers to sing their students to sleep.