Friendship should be surrounded with ceremonies and respects, and not crushed into corners.

The way of Providence is a little rude. The habit of snake and spider, the snap of the tiger and other leapers and bloody jumpers, the crackle of the bones of his prey in the coil of the anaconda-these are in the system, and our habits are like theirs.

Dreams have a poetic integrity and truth. This limbo and dust-hole of thought is presided over by a certain reason, too.

Is there a difference? Yes. We are in harmony with nature, but never at peace.

A man is a beggar who only lives to the useful, and, however he may serve as a pin or rivet in the social machine, cannot be saidto have arrived at self-possession.

Everything intercepts us from ourselves.

A man's fortunes are the fruit of his character. A man's friends are his magnetisms.