The sea never changes and its works, for all the talks of men, are wrapped in mystery.

The conquest of the earth... is not a pretty thing when you look into it too much. What redeems it is the idea only... not a sentimental pretence but an idea.

Few men realize that their life, the very essence of their character, their capabilities and their audacities, are only the expression of their belief in the safety of their surroundings.

The last thing a woman will consent to in a man whom she loves, or on whom she simply depends, is want of courage.

I take it that what all men are really after is some form or perhaps only some formula of peace.

As a general rule, a reputation is built on manner as much as on achievement.

History repeats itself, but the special call of an art which has passed away is never reproduced. It is as utterly gone out of the world as the song of a destroyed wild bird.