Our age is retrospective. It builds the sepulchres of the fathers. It writes biographies, histories and criticism.

Nor has science sufficient humanity, so long as the naturalist overlooks the wonderful congruity which subsists between man and the world; of which he is lord, not because he is the most subtile inhabitant, but because he is its head and heart, and finds something of himself in every great and small thing, in every mountain stratum, in every new law of color, fact of astronomy, or atmospheric influence which observation or analysis lay open.

The reason why all men honor love is because it looks up, and not down; aspires and not despairs.

As we are, so we do; and as we do, so is it done to us; we are the builders of our fortunes.

The whole of what we know is a system of compensation. Every defect in one manner is made up in another. Every suffering is rewarded; every sacrifice is made up; every debt is paid.

Whoever is open, loyal, true; of humane and affable demeanour; honourable himself, and in his judgement of others; faithful to his word as to law, and faithful alike to God and man....such a man is a true gentleman.

When the literary class betray a destitution of faith, it is not strange that society should be disheartened and sensualized by unbelief.