The universe is the externisation of the soul. Wherever the life is, that bursts into appearance around it. Our science is sensual, and therefore superficial. The earth, and the heavenly bodies, physics, and chemistry, we sensually treat, as if they were self-existent; but these are the retinue of that Being we have.

Columbus discovered no isle or key so lonely as himself.

He takes men out of time and makes them feel eternity.

To different minds, the same world is a hell, and a heaven.

We do not yet trust the unknown power of thoughts.

Jesus and Shakespeare are fragments of the soul, and by love I conquer and incorporate them in my own conscious domain. His virtue,--is not that mine? His wit,--if it cannot be made mine, it is not wit.

A moment is a concentrated eternity.