Calmness is always godlike.

The frost which kills the harvest of a year saves the harvest of a century, by destroying the weevil or the locust.

Some men love only to talk where they are masters. They like to go to school-girls, or to boys, or into the shops where the sauntering people gladly lend an ear.

Culture is the suggestion, from certain best thoughts, that a man has a range of affinities through which he can modulate the violence of any master-tones that have a droning preponderance in his scale, and succor him against himself. Culture redresses this imbalance, puts him among equals and superiors, revives the delicious sense of sympathy, and warns him of the dangers of solitude and repulsion.

General ideas are essences. They are our gods: they round and ennoble the most partial and sordid way of living.

To make knowledge valuable, you must have the cheerfulness of wisdom.

Thou art to me a delicious torment.