The fatal trait of the times is the divorce between religion and morality.

Artists must be sacrificed to their art.

The death of a dear friend, wife, brother, lover, which seemed nothing but privation, somewhat later assumes the aspect of a guide or genius; for it commonly operates revolutions in our way of life, terminates an epoch of infancy or of youth which was waiting to be closed, breaks up a wonted occupation, or a household, or style of living, and allows the formation of new ones more friendly to the growth of character.

All vigor is contagious.

Some men are born to own, and can animate all their possessions. Others cannot: their owning is not graceful; seems to be a compromise of their character: they seem to steal their own dividends.

As soon as the man is at one with God, he will not beg. He will then see prayer in all action.

There is ever a slight suspicion of the burlesque about earnest good men.