We are adapted to infinity. We are hard to please, and love nothing which ends: and in nature is no end; but every thing, at the end of one use, is lifted into a superior, and the ascent of these things climbs into daemonic and celestial natures.

Being perfectly well-dressed gives a feeling of tranquillity that religion is powerless to bestow.

In a library we are surrounded by many hundreds of dear friends, but they are imprisoned by an enchanter in these paper and leathern boxes.

The Yankee is one who, if he once gets his teeth set on a thing, all creation can't make him let go.

They who talk much of destiny, their birth-star, etc., are in a lower dangerous plane, and invite the evils they fear.

Manners are very communicable: men catch them from each other.

To the body and mind which have been cramped by noxious work or company, nature is medicinal and restores their tone. The tradesman, the attorney comes out of the din and craft of the street and sees the sky and the woods, and is a man again. In their eternal calm, he finds himself.