What is there of the divine in a load of brick? What ... in a barber shop? ... Much. All.

The walking of Man is falling forwards.

In good company, the individuals merge their egotism into a social soul exactly co-extensive with the several consciousnesses there present.

Come out of the azure. Love the day. Do not leave the sky out of your landscape.

Each man, if he attempts to join himself to others, is on all sides cramped and diminished of his proportion; and the stricter theunion, the smaller and the more pitiful he is. But leave him alone, to recognize in every hour and place the secret soul, he will go up and down doing the works of a true member, and, to the astonishment of all, the work will be done with concert, though no man spoke.

Men are what their mothers made them. You may as well ask a loom which weaves huckabuck why it does not make cashmere as to expect poetry from this engineer or a chemical discovery from that jobber.

Crime and punishment grow out of one stem.