I wiped away the weeds and foam, I fetched my sea-born treasures home; But the poor, unsightly, noisome things Had left their beauty on the shore, With the sun and the sand and the wild uproar.

What is the city in which we sit here, but an aggregate of incongruous materials, which have obeyed the will of some man?

A great man scarcely knows how he dines, how he dresses; but without railing or precision, his living is natural and poetic.

All science is transcendental or else passes away.

When the literary class betray a destitution of faith, it is not strange that society should be disheartened and sensualized by unbelief.

Self-command is the main elegance.

In nature nothing can be given. All things are sold.