Was never secret history but birds tell it in the bowers.

The poisons are our principal medicines, which kill the disease and save the life.

I dream of a better tomorrow, where chickens can cross the road and not be questioned about their motives.

Power is what they want, not candy-power to execute their design, power to give legs and feet, form and actuality to their thought; which, to a clear-sighted man, appears the end for which the universe exists, and all its resources might be well applied.

If thought makes free, so does the moral sentiment. The mixtures of spiritual chemistry refuse to be analyzed.

Let none presume to measure the irregularities of Michael Angelo or Socrates by village scales.

Our friends early appear to us as representatives of certain ideas, which they never pass or exceed. They stand on the brink of the ocean of thought and power, but they never take a single step that would bring them there.