Instinct is intelligence incapable of self-consciousness.

Emotion turning back on itself, and not leading on to thought or action, is the element of madness.

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

One dupe is as impossible as one twin.

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

Color, in the outward world, answers to feeling in man; shape, to thought; motion, to will. The dawn of day is the nearest outward likeness of an act of creation; and it is, therefore, also the closest type in nature for that in us which most approaches to creation--the realization of an idea by an act of the will.

Every fancy that we would substitute for a reality is, if we saw aright, and saw the whole, not only false, but every way less beautiful and excellent than that which we sacrifice to it.