Thought is the blossom; language the bud; action the fruit behind it.

The secret of drunkenness is, that it insulates us in thought, whilst it unites us in feeling.

Society everywhere is in conspiracy against the manhood of every one of its members.

Every man beholds his human condition with a degree of melancholy. As a ship aground is battered by the waves, so man, imprisonedin mortal life, lies open to the mercy of coming events.

Machinery is aggressive. The weaver becomes a web, the machinist a machine. If you do not use the tools, they use you. All tools are in one sense edge-tools, and dangerous.

Few and mean as my gifts may be, I actually am, and do not need for my own assurance or the assurance of my fellows any secondary testimony.

Men in all ways are better than they seem.