Few people have any next, they live from hand to mouth without a plan, and are always at the end of their line.

Society is frivolous, and shreds its day into scraps, its conversation into ceremonies and escapes.

We are rich only through what we give, and poor only through what we refuse.

The world globes itself in a drop of dew.

What we have learned from other becomes our own reflection.

I am ashamed to see what a shallow village tale our so-called History is. How many times must we say Rome, and Paris, and Constantinople! What does Rome know of rat and lizard? What are Olympiads and Consulates to these neighboring systems of being? Nay, what food or experience or succor have they for the Esquimaux seal-hunter, or the Kanaka in his canoe, for the fisherman, the stevedore, the porter?

An eye can threaten like a loaded and levelled gun, or it can insult like hissing or kicking; or, in its altered mood, by beams of kindness, it can make the heart dance for joy. ... One of the most wonderful things in nature is a glance of the eye; it transcends speech; it is the bodily symbol of identity.