No star ever rose or set without influence somewhere.

Life is good, but not life in itself.

Truth makes on the ocean of nature no one track of light; every eye, looking on, finds its own.

That man is great, and he alone, Who serves a greatness not his own, For neither praise nor self: Content to know and be unknown: Whole in himself.

Great sorrow makes sacred the sufferer.

Whenever I hear French spoken as I approve, I find myself quietly falling in love.

It is, however, not to the museum, or the lecture-room, or the drawing- school, but to the library, that we must go for the completion of our humanity. It is books that bear from age to age the intellectual wealth of the world.