We wake from one dream into another dream.

The German intellect wants the French sprightliness, the fine practical understanding of the English, and the American adventure; but it has a certain probity, which never rests in a superficial performance, but asks steadily, To what end? A German public asks for a controlling sincerity.

There is never a beginning, there is never an end, to the inexplicable continuity of this web of God, but always circular power returning into itself.

A man becomes what he thinks about most of the time

We write from aspiration and antagonism, as well as from experience. We paint those qualities which we do not posses.

Another sort of false prayers are our regrets. Discontent is the way of self-reliance: it is infirmity of will. Regret calamities, if you can thereby help the sufferer; if not, attend your own work, and already the evil begins to be repaired.

A great licentiousness treads on the heels of a reformation.