Fear is cruel and mean.

Genius has infused itself into nature. It indicates itself by a small excess of good, a small balance in brute facts always favorable to the side of reason.

The beautiful rests on the foundations of the necessary.

All good conversation, manners, and action come from a spontaneity which forgets usages and makes the moment great.

If there is any period one would desire to be born in, is it not the age of Revolution; when the old and the new stand side by side, and admit of being compared; when the energies of all men are searched by fear and by hope; when the historic glories of the old can be compensated by the rich possibilities of the new era?

Words are finite expressions of the infinite mind.

Thought is the blossom; language the bud; action the fruit behind it.