Throw a stone into the stream and the ripples that propagate themselves are the beautiful type of all influence.

In a world of infinite choice people are struggling to figure out what to do.

In private places, among sordid objects, an act of truth or heroism seems at once to draw to itself the sky as its temple, the sun as its cradle. Nature stretches out her arms to embrace man, only let his thoughts be of equal greatness.

The charm of fine manners is music and sculpture and picture to many who do not pretend to appreciation of these arts.

A day is a miniature eternity.

The best conversation is rare. Society seems to have agreed to treat fictions as realities, and realities as fictions; and the simple lover of truth, especially if on very high grounds, as a religious or intellectual seeker, finds himself a stranger and alien.

We are taught by great actions that the universe is the property of every individual in it.