The progress of religion is steadily to its identity with morals. Strength enters just as much as the moral element prevails.
We prize books, and they prize them most who are themselves wise.
Common sense is genius dressed in its working clothes.
The only joy in his being mine, is that the not mine is mine.
What matters most is not what is behind us or before us, but what is within us.
Life is a search after power; and this is an element with which the world is so saturated,-there is no chink or crevice in which it is not lodged,-that no honest seeking goes unrewarded.