My friends have come to me unsought. The great God gave them to me. By oldest right, by the divine affinity of virtue with itself,I find them, or rather not I, but the Deity in me and in them derides and cancels the thick walls of the individual character, relation, age, sex, circumstance, at which he usually connives, and now makes many one.

Nature magically suits a man to his fortunes, by making them the fruit of his character.

Every violation of truth is not only a sort of suicide in the liar, but is a stab at the health of human society.

Do what we can, summer will have its flies.

If the red slayer think he slays, Or if the slain think he is slain, They know not well the subtle ways, I keep and pass and turn again.

A walk in the woods is only an exalted dream.

Why should we assume the faults of our friend, or wife, or father, or child, because they sit around our hearth, or are said to have the same blood?