[Gratitude is] the cheerfulness of wisdom.

The great majority of men grow up and grow old in seeming and following.

In the right hands, literature is not resorted to as a consolation, and by the broken and decayed, but as a decalogue.

All things are moral. That soul, which within us is a sentiment, outside of us is a law. We feel its inspiration; out there in history we can see its fatal strength.

Strange is this alien despotism of Sleep which takes two persons lying in each other's arms & separates them leagues, continents,asunder.

The civility of the world has reached that pitch that their more moral genius is becoming indispensable, and the quality of this race is to be honored for itself.

You have just dined, and however scrupulously the slaughterhouse is concealed in the graceful distance of miles, there is complicity.