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

The Greek epigram intimates that the force of love is not shown by the courting of beauty, but where the like desire is inflamed for one who is ill-favored.

The law of nature is alternation for evermore. Each electrical state superinduces the opposite.

How cunningly nature hides every wrinkle of her inconceivable antiquity under roses and violets and morning dew!

We but half express ourselves, and are ashamed of that divine idea which each of us represents. It may be safely trusted as proportionate and of good issues, so it be faithfully imparted, but God will not have his work made manifest by cowards.

What omniscience has music! So absolutely impersonal, and yet every sufferer feels his secret sorrow soothed.

There is not a piece of science, but its flank may be turned tomorrow.