The ship of heaven guides itself and will not accept a wooden rudder.

We owe to genius always the same debt, of lifting the curtain from the common, and showing us that divinities are sitting disguised in the seeming gang of gypsies and peddlars.

Logic is the procession or proportionate unfolding of the intuition; but its virtue is as silent method; the moment it would appear as propositions, and have a separate value, it is worthless.

There is more difference in the quality of our pleasures than in the amount.

There are people who have an appetite for grief; pleasure is not strong enough and they crave pain. They have mithridatic stomachs which must be fed on poisoned bread, natures so doomed that no prosperity can sooth their ragged and dishevelled desolation.

Each man has an aptitude born with him. Do your work.

The adventitious beauty of poetry may be felt in the greater delight with a verse given in a happy quotation than in the poem.