The flowers talk when the wind blows over them.

Truth has already ceased to be itself if polemically said.

Greatness is a property for which no man gets credit too soon; it must be possessed long before it is acknowledged.

Men are what their mothers made them. You may as well ask a loom which weaves huckabuck why it does not make cashmere as to expect poetry from this engineer or a chemical discovery from that jobber.

Aristotle and Plato are reckoned the respective heads of two schools. A wise man will see that Aristotle platonizes.

He in whom the love of truth predominates . . . submits to the inconvenience of suspense and imperfect opinion; but he is a candidate for truth . . . and respects the highest law of his being.

God screens us evermore from premature ideas.