There are moods in which we court suffering, in the hope that here, at least, we shall find reality, sharp peaks and edges of truth. But it turns out to be scene-painting and counterfeit. The only thing grief has taught me is to know how shallow it is.

Man is a shrewd inventor, and is ever taking the hint of a new machine from his own structure, adapting some secret of his own anatomy in iron, wood, and leather, to some required function in the work of the world.

We are a puny and fickle folk. Avarice, hesitation, and following are our diseases.

The soul refuses limits and always affirms an optimism, never a pessimism.

The the illuminated mind the whole world sparkles with light.

Why should we grope among the dry bones of the past, or put the living generation into masquerade out of its faded wardrobe?

From Washington, proverbially "the city of distances," through all its cities, states, and territories, it is a country of beginnings, of projects, of designs, and expectations.