Skepticism? Yes, but a saint is a skeptic once in twenty-four hours.

As every man is hunted by his own daemon, vexed by his own disease, this checks all his activity.

Every reform was once a private opinion.

We may climb into the thin and cold realm of pure geometry and lifeless science, or sink into that of sensation. Between these extremes is the equator of life, of thought, or spirit, or poetry,--a narrow belt.

Man is a shrewd inventor, and is ever taking the hint of a new machine from his own structure, adapting some secret of his own anatomy in iron, wood, and leather, to some required function in the work of the world.

Nothing can bring you peace but yourself. Nothing can bring you peace but the triumph of principles.

Do not tell me of my obligation to put all poor men in good situations. Are they my poor? I tell thee, thou foolish philanthropist, that I grudge the dollar, the dime, the cent, I give to such men as do not belong to me and to whom I do not belong