Age, like woman, requires fit surroundings.
The soul is the perceiver and the revealer of truth.
That which shows God in me, fortifies me. That which shows God out of me, makes me a wart and a wen.
The good rain, like a bad preacher, does not know when to leave off.
Language is a city to the building of which every human being brought a stone.
When we see a special reformer we feel like asking him, What right have you, sir, to your own virtue? Is virtue piecemeal?