We are amused through the intellect, but it is the heart that saves us from ennui.

It is a little stream, which flows softly, but freshens everything along its course.

There is, by God's grace, an immeasurable distance between late and too late.

The symptoms of compassion and benevolence, in some people, are like those minute guns which warn you that you are in deadly peril.

Let our lives be pure as snowfields, where our steps leave a mark but no stain.

We are all of us, in this world, more or less like St. January, whom the inhabitants of Naples worship one day, and pelt with baked apples the next.

Liberty must be a mighty thing; for by it God punishes and rewards nations.