For beauty is God's handwriting...A nd, thank God for it as a cup of His blessing.

There are as many pillows of illusion as flakes in a snow-storm. We wake from one dream into another dream.

The Same, the Same: friend and foe are of one stuff; the ploughman, the plough, and the furrow, are of one stuff; and the stuff is such, and so much, that the variations of form are unimportant.

A man of no conversation should smoke.

What a searching preacher of self-command is the varying phenomenon of health.

Man is the end of nature; nothing so easily organizes itself in every part of the universe as he; no moss, no lichen is so easilyborn; and he takes along with him and puts out from himself the whole apparatus of society and condition extempore, as an army encamps in a desert, and where all was just now blowing sand, creates a white city in an hour, a government, a market, a place for feasting, for conversation, and for love.

A child is a curly, dimpled lunatic.