O Lord! Unhappy is the man whom man can make unhappy.

All the world loves a lover.

Nobody is glad in the gladness of another, and our system is one of war, of an injurious superiority. Every child of the Saxon race is educated to wish to be first. It is our system; and a man comes to measure his greatness by the regrets, envies, and hatreds of his competitors.

No man gains credit for his cowardly courtesies.

Character teaches above our wills.

We are disgusted by gossip; yet it is of importance to keep the angels in their proprieties.

Jesus and Shakespeare are fragments of the soul, and by love I conquer and incorporate them in my own conscious domain. His virtue,--is not that mine? His wit,--if it cannot be made mine, it is not wit.