Every ship is a romantic object, except that we sail in. Embark, and the romance quits our vessel, and hangs on every other sail in the horizon.

Man's actions are the picture book of his creeds.

There is guidance for each of us, and by lowly listening we shall hear the right word.

There was never a child so lovely but his mother was glad to get him to sleep.

A man must thank his defects, and stand in some terror of his talents. A transcendent talent draws so largely on his forces as tolame him; a defect pays him revenues on the other side.

Let us not forget the genial miraculous force we have known to proceed from a book.

Art is a jealous mistress.