Though your views are in straight antagonism to theirs, assume an identity of sentiment, assume that you are saying precisely thatwhich all think, and in the flow of wit and love roll out your paradoxes in solid column, with not the infirmity of a doubt.

The horseman serves the horse, The neat-herd serves the neat, The merchant serves the purse, The eater serves his meat; 'Tis the day of the chattel, Web to weave, and corn to grind, Things are in the saddle, And ride mankind.

Politics is a deleterious profession, like some poisonous handicrafts.

Great is paint; nay, God is the painter; and we rightly accuse the critic who destroys too many illusions. Society does not love its unmaskers.

Everything runs to excess; every good quality is noxious if unmixed.

I awoke this morning with devout thanksgiving for my friends, the old and the new.

There is no chance and anarchy in the universe. All is system and gradation. Every god is there sitting in his sphere.