I read your piece on Plato. Holmes, when you strike at a king, you must kill him.

A man cannot speak but he judges himself. With his will or against his will he draws his portrait to the eye of his companions by every word. Every opinion reacts on him who utters it. It is a threadball thrown at a mark, but the other end remains on the thrower

The ancestor of every action is a thought.

An expense of ends to means is fate;Morganization tyrannizing over character. The menagerie, or forms and powers of the spine, is a book of fate: the bill of the bird, the skull of the snake, determines tyrannically its limits.

The secrets of life are not shown except to sympathy and likeness.

A true man belongs to no other time or place, but is the center of things.

But a compassion for that which is not and cannot be useful and lovely, is degrading and futile.