It is the fine souls who serve us, and not what is called fine society. Fine society is only a self-protection against the vulgarities of the street and the tavern.

The key to every man is his thought. Sturdy and defying though he look, he has a helm which he obeys, which is the idea after which all his facts are classified. He can only be reformed by showing him a new idea which commands his own.

Good bye, proud world! I'm going home; Thou art not my friend, and I'm not thine

The secret of fortune is joy in our hands.

The profoundest thought or passion sleeps as in a mine, until an equal mind and heart finds and publishes it.

My life is not an apology, but a life.

There are many things of which a wise man might wish to be ignorant