We put our love where we have put our labor.

Or whipping its rough surface for a trout.

The moment the doctrine of the immortality is separately taught, man is already fallen. In the flowing of love, in the adoration of humility, there is no question of continuance. No inspired man ever asks this question, or condescends to these evidences. For the soul is true to itself, and the man in whom it is shed abroad cannot wander from the present, which is infinite, to a future which would be finite.

To accomplish excellence or anything outstanding, you must listen to that whisper which is heard by you alone.

The relations of the soul to the divine spirit are so pure, that it is profane to seek to interpose helps.

A strenuous soul hates cheap success. It is the ardor of the assailant that makes the vigor of the defendant.

In the woods too, a man casts off his years, as the snake his slough, and at what period soever of life, is always a child. In the woods, is perpetual youth.