Man is a substance clad in shadows.

Knowledge, or more expressively truth,--for knowledge is truth received into our intelligence,--truth is an ideal whole.

Pain has its own noble joy, when it starts a strong consciousness of life, from a stagnant one.

Superstition moulds nature into an arbitrary semblance of the supernatural, and then bows down to the work of its own hands.

Enthusiasm is grave, inward, self-controlled; mere excitement, outward, fantastic, hysterical, and passing in a moment from tears to laughter.

You just cant predict baseball

Toil, feel, think, hope; you will be sure to dream enough before you die, without arranging for it.