Coleridge cried; "O God, how glorious it is to live!" Renan asks, "O God, when will it be worth while to live?" In Nature we echo the poet; in the world we echo the thinker.

There is a chord in every heart that has a sigh in it if touched aright.

Belief of some sort is the lifeblood of Art.

I have known men who have been sold and bought a hundred times, who have only got very fat and very comfortable in the process of exchange.

Friendship is usually treated...as a tough...thing which will survive all manner of bad treatment. But this is an exceedingly great and foolish error; it may die in an hour of a single unwise word.

Most crimes are sanctioned in some form or other when they take grand names.

Fame nowadays is little else but notoriety.