I find myself at the extremity of a long beach. How gladly does the spirit leap forth, and suddenly enlarge its sense of being to the full extent of the broad, blue, sunny deep! A greeting and a homage to the Sea! I descend over its margin, and dip my hand into the wave that meets me, and bathe my brow. That far-resounding roar is the Ocean’s voice of welcome. His salt breath brings a blessing along with it.

Of all the events which constitute a person's biography, there is scarcely one ... to which the world so easily reconciles itself as to his death.

There is something truer and more real, than what we can see with the eyes, and touch with the finger.

It is to the credit of human nature that, except where its selfishness is brought into play, it loves more readily than it hates.

A hero cannot be a hero unless in a heroic world.

But this had been a sin of passion, not of principle, nor even purpose.

One picture in ten thousand, perhaps, ought to live in the applause of mankind, from generation to generation until the colors fade and blacken out of sight or the canvas rot entirely away.