The book of nature is the book of fate. She turns the gigantic pages, leaf after leaf never returning one.

It behooves us to be careful what we worship, for what we are worshipping we are becoming.

My friends have come to me unsought. The great God gave them to me. By oldest right, by the divine affinity of virtue with itself,I find them, or rather not I, but the Deity in me and in them derides and cancels the thick walls of the individual character, relation, age, sex, circumstance, at which he usually connives, and now makes many one.

The bulk of mankind believe in two gods. They are under one dominion here in the house, as friend and parent, in social circles, in letters, in art, in love, in religion; but in mechanics, in dealing with steam and climate, in trade, in politics, they think they come under another.

The chief mourner does not always attend the funeral.

The artists must be sacrificed to their art. Like the bees, they must put their lives into the sting they give.

If we will not interfere with our thought, but will act entirely, or see how the thing stands in God, we know the particular thing, and every thing, and every man.