He that loveth maketh his own the grandeur he loves

Science is nothing but the finding of analogy, identity, in the most remote parts.

When it comes to divide an estate, the politest men quarrel.

We do not make a world of our own, but fall into institutions already made, and have to accommodate ourselves to them to be useful at all.

The reward of a thing well done, is to have done it.

I--this thought which is called I--is the mould into which the world is poured like melted wax.

As picture teaches the colouring, so sculpture the anatomy of form.