The young men were born with knives in their brain, a tendency to introversion, self-dissection, anatomizing of motives.

The picture waits for my verdict; it is not to command me, but I am to settle its claim to praise.

The man in the street does not know a star in the sky.

Science is nothing but the finding of analogy, identity, in the most remote parts.

To laugh often and much ... this is to have succeeded. Probably not from Emerson: here's the full quotation and the story.

The hero is suffered to be himself.

Happy is the house that shelters a friend.