In the depths of every heart there is a tomb and a dungeon, though the lights, the music, and the revelry above may cause us to forget their existence.

In this republican country, amid the fluctuating waves of our social life, somebody is always at the drowning-point.

Religion and art spring from the same root and are close kin. Economics and art are strangers.

It is remarkable, that persons who speculate the most boldly often conform with the most perfect quietude to the external regulations of society. The thoughts alone suffice them, without investing itself in the flesh and blood of action.

But, all this while, I was giving myself very unnecessary alarm. Providence had mediated better things for me than I could possibly imagine for myself.

What, in the name of common-sense, had I to do with any better society than I had always lived in?

No man for any considerable period can wear one face to himself and another to the multitude, without finally getting bewildered as to which may be the true.