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

For the time of towns is tolled from the world by funereal chimes, but in nature the universal hours are counted by succeeding tribes of animals and plants, and by growth of joy on joy.

One idea lights a thousand candles.

How we hate this solemn Ego that accompanies the learned, like a double, wherever he goes.

If the East loves infinity, the West delights in boundaries.

Great believers are always reckoned infidels, impracticable, fantastic, atheistic, and really men of no account. The spiritualist finds himself driven to express his faith by a series of skepticisms.

The fox has many tricks. The hedgehog has but one. But that is the best of all.