Our friendships hurry to short and poor conclusions, because we have made them a texture of wine and dreams, instead of the toughfibre of the human heart. The laws of friendship are austere and eternal, of one web with the laws of nature and of morals.

What is a weed? A plant whose virtues have never been discovered.

The gates of thought, - how slow and late they discover themselves! Yet when they appear, we see that they were always there, always open.

Without a rich heart, wealth is an ugly beggar.

Let us even bid our dearest friends farewell, and defy them, saying, "Who are you? Unhand me: I will be dependent no more." Ah! seest thou not, O brother, that thus we part only to meet again on a higher platform, and only be more each other's, because we are more our own?

If I cannot brag of knowing something, then I brag of not knowing it; at any rate, brag.

The interminable forests should become graceful parks, for use and delight.