Sleep takes off the costume of circumstance, arms us with terrible freedom, so that every will rushes to a deed.

A beautiful woman is a practical poet, taming her savage mate, planting tenderness, hope and eloquence in all whom she approaches.

What is a weed? A plant whose virtues have never been discovered.

Man moves in all modes, by legs of horses, by wings of winds, by steam, by gas of balloon, by electricity, and stands on tiptoe threatening to hunt the eagle in his own element.

Whatever games are played with us, we must play no games with ourselves, but deal in our privacy with the last honesty and truth.

[A]s if life were a thunder-storm wherein you can see by a flash the horizon, and then cannot see your hand.

We might as easily reprove the east wind, or the frost, as a political party, whose members, for the most part, could give no account of their position, but stand for the defence of those interests in which they find themselves.