We sometimes congratulate ourselves.

The book, if you would see anything in it, requires to be read in the clear, brown, twilight atmosphere in which it was written; if opened in the sunshine, it is apt to look exceedingly like a volume of blank pages.

Dream strange things and make them look like truth.

I have come to see the nonsense of attempting to describe fine scenery. There is no such possibility. If scenery could be adequately reproduced in words, there would have been no need of God's making it in reality.

Keep the imagination sane--that is one of the truest conditions of communion with heaven.

Time flies over us, but leaves its shadow behind.

I have laughed, in bitterness and agony of heart, at the contrast between what I seem and what I am!