The hero is he who is immovably centered.

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.

Is the parent better than the child into whom he has cast his ripened being? Whence, then, this worship of the past?

How often we must remember the art of the surgeon, which, in replacing the broken bone, contents itself with releasing the parts from false position; they fly into place by the action of the muscles. On this art of nature all our arts rely.

Sleep lingers all our lifetime about our eyes, as night hovers all day in the boughs of the fir-tree.

No orator can top the one who can give good nicknames.

We do what we must, and call it by the best names.