In Haydn's oratorios, the notes present to the imagination not only motions, as, of the snake, the stag, and the elephant, but colors also; as the green grass.

We do not count a man's years until he has nothing else to count.

Language is a city, to the building of which every human being brought a stone; yet he is no more to be credited with the grand result than the acaleph which adds a cell to the coral reef which is the basis of the continent.

The soul knows only the soul; the web of events is the flowing robe in which she is clothed.

If the East loves infinity, the West delights in boundaries.

Philanthropies and charities have a certain air of quackery.

There are no days in life so memorable as those which vibrate to some stroke of the imagination.