Converse with a mind that is grandly simple, and literature looks like word-catching.

Nor count compartments of the floors, But mount to paradise By the stairway of surprise.

It is easy to live for others, everybody does. I call on you to live for yourself.

In old persons, when thus fully expressed, we often observe a fair, plump, perennial waxen complexion, which indicates that all the ferment of earlier days has subsided into serenity of thought and behavior.

Wherever the truth is injured, defend it.

For, though the origin of most of our words is forgotten, each word was at first a stroke of genius, and obtained currency, because for the moment it symbolized the world to the first speaker and to the hearer. The etymologist finds the deadest word to have been once a brilliant picture.

With the past, I have nothing to do; nor with the future. I live now.