There is in us a lyric germ or nucleus which deserves respect; it bids a man to ponder or create; and in this dim corner of himself he can take refuge and find consolations which the society of his fellow creatures does not provide.
To find a friend one must close one eye. To keep him...two.
No one can expect a majority to be stirred by motives other than ignoble.
The pine stays green in winter... wisdom in hardship.
Why always "not yet"? Do flowers in spring say "not yet"?
Education is a state-controlled manufactory of echoes.