If we tire of the saints, Shakspeare is our city of refuge.

An individual man is a fruit which it cost all the foregoing ages to form and ripen. He is strong, not to do, but to live; not in his arms, but in his heart; not as an agent, but as a fact.

I take this evanescence and lubricity of all objects, which lets them slip through our fingers then when we clutch hardest, to be the most unhandsome part of our condition.

Men over forty are no judges of a book written in a new spirit.

The good writer seems to be writing about himself, but has his eye always on that thread of the Universe which runs through himself and all things.

A man complained that on his way home to dinner he had every day to pass through that long field of his neighbor's. I advised him to buy it, and it would never seem long again.

A man is the facade of a temple wherein all wisdom and all good abide.