Labor is the curse of the world, and nobody can meddle with it without becoming proportionately brutalized.

What a happy and holy fashion it is that those who love one another should rest on the same pillow.

I find nothing so singular to life as that everything appears to lose its substance the instant one actually grapples with it.

Trusting no man as his friend, he could not recognize his enemy when the latter actually appeared.

No, my little Pearl! Thou must gather thine own sunshine. I have none to give thee.

Man is a wretch without woman; but woman is a monster-and thank Heaven, an almost impossible and hitherto imaginary monster--without man, as her acknowledged principal!

Let the black flower blossom as it may!