All the mistakes I make arise from forsaking my own station and trying to see the object from another person's point of view.

The soul is no traveller; the wise man stays at home, and when his necessities, his duties, on any occasion call him from his house, or into foreign lands, he is at home still, and shall make men sensible by the expression of his countenance, that he goes the missionary of wisdom and virtue, and visits cities and men like a sovereign, and not like an interloper or a valet.

When we quarrel, how we wish we had been blameless.

The mob is man voluntarily descending to the nature of the beast. Its fit hour of activity is night. Its actions are insane like its whole constitution. It persecutes a principle; it would whip a right; it would tar and feather justice, by inflicting fire and outrage upon the houses and persons of those who have these. It resembles the prank of boys, who run with fire-engines to put out the ruddy aurora streaming to the stars.

The good writer seems to be writing about himself, but has his eye always on that thread of the Universe which runs through himself and all things.

Nature, through all her kingdoms, insures herself.

Every man has a vocation. The talent is the call.