We over-estimate the conscience of our friend. His goodness seems better than our goodness, his nature finer, his temptations less. Everything that is his,--his name, his form, his dress, books, and instruments,--fancy enhances. Our own thought sounds new and larger from his mouth.

Is all literature eavesdropping, and all art Chinese imitation? our life a custom, and our body borrowed, like a beggar’s dinner, from a hundred charities?

The first questions are always to be asked, and the wisest doctor is gravelled by the inquisitiveness of a child.

Hospitality consists in a little fire, a little food, and an immense quiet

What goes on around you... compares little with what goes on inside you.

Every reform was once a private opinion.

What is a weed? A plant whose virtues have never been discovered.