A part of fate is the freedom of man. Forever wells up the impulse of choosing and acting in his soul.

The kingdom of man over nature, which cometh not with observation,--a dominion such as now is beyond his dream of God,--he shall enter without more wonder than the blind man feels who is gradually restored to perfect sight.

We can only be valued as we make ourselves valuable.

He who travels in search of something which he has not got, travels away from himself and grows old even in youth among old things.

There is nothing we value and hunt and cultivate and strive to draw to us, but in some hour we turn and rend it.

The soul raised over passion beholds identity and eternal causation, perceives the self-existance of Truth and Right, and calms itself with knowing that all things go well.

It seems to be a rule of wisdom never to rely on your memory alone, scarcely even in acts of pure memory, but to bring the past for judgment into the thousand-eyed present, and live ever in a new day.