There is nothing settled in manners, but the laws of behavior yield to the energy of the individual.

We must hold a man amenable to reason for the choice of his daily craft or profession. It is not an excuse any longer for his deeds that they are the custom of his trade. What business has he with an evil trade?

When we see a soul whose acts are all regal, graceful, and pleasant as roses, we must thank God that such things can be and are.

Nothing is quite beautiful alone; nothing but is beautiful in the whole. A single object is only so far beautiful as it suggests this universal grace.

We do not live an equal life, but one of contrasts and patchwork; now a little joy, then a sorrow, now a sin, then a generous or brave action.

Self-reliance is its aversion. It loves not realities and creators, but names and customs.

I dip my pen in the blackest ink, because I'm not afraid of falling into my inkpot.