Private, accidental, confidential conversation breeds thought. Clubs produce oftener words.

What is a weed? A plant whose virtues have not yet been discovered.[What is a sorrow? A feeling whose benefits have not yet been discovered]

Nature is saturated with Deity.

Our chief want is someone who will inspire us to be what we know we could be.

Thought is the property of him who can entertain it, and of him who can adequately place it.

The world is emblematic. Parts of speech are metaphors, because the whole of nature is a metaphor of the human mind.

The essence of all jokes, of all comedy, seems to be an honest or well intended halfness; a non performance of that which is pretended to be performed, at the same time that one is giving loud pledges of performance. The balking of the intellect, is comedy and it announces itself in the pleasant spasms we call laughter.