I laugh at my heart, and do its will

We are pantheists when we study nature, polytheists when we write poetry, monotheists in our morality.

Analysis and synthesis are both as necessary to the thinking spirit as inspiration and expiration to the organism.

Our destiny often looks like a fruit-tree in winter. Who would think from its pitiable aspect that those rigid boughs, those rough twigs could next spring again be green, bloom, and even bear fruit? Yet we hope it, we know it.

Theories are usually the over-hasty efforts of an impatient understanding that would gladly be rid of phenomena, and so puts in their place pictures, notions, nay, often mere words.

I let everyone follow his own bent, that I may be free to follow mine.

It is the great triumph of genius to make the common appear novel.