We can see well into the past; we can guess shrewdly into the future, but that which is rolled up and muffled in impenetrable folds is today.

When there is no vision, people perish.

No power of genius has ever yet had the smallest success in explaining existence. The perfect enigma remains.

For the time of towns is tolled from the world by funereal chimes, but in nature the universal hours are counted by succeeding tribes of animals and plants, and by growth of joy on joy.

Times of heroism are generally times of terror, but the day never shines in which this element may not work.

Sickness is poor-spirited, and cannot serve anyone; it must husband its resources to live. But health or fullness answers its own ends, and has to spare, runs over, and inundates the neighborhoods and creeks of other men's necessities.

Sitting back in the evening, stargazing and stroking your dog, is an infallible remedy.