The etymologist finds the deadest word to have been once a brilliant picture. Language is fossil poetry. As the limestone of the continent consists of infinite masses of the shells of animalcules, so language is made up of images or tropes, which now, in their secondary use, have long ceased to remind us of their poetic origin.

Its the not the Destination, It's the journey.

Conversation in society is found to be on a platform so low as to exclude science, the saint, and the poet.

Shallow men believe in luck. Strong men believe in cause and effect.

If we shall take the good we find, asking no questions, we shall have heaping measures.

The babe in arms is a channel through which the energies we call fate, love, and reason visibly stream.

Men's actions are too strong for them. Show me a man who has acted, and who has not been the victim and slave of his action.