Men do not go out to meet misfortune as we do. They learn it; and we--we divine it.

The most culpable of the excesses of Liberty is the harm she does herself.

Travel is the frivolous part of serious lives, and the serious part of frivolous ones.

Consolation heaps without contact; somewhat like the blessed air which we need but to breathe.

I like people to be saints; but I want them to be first and superlatively honest men.

Let us shun everything, which might tend to efface the primitive lineaments of our individuality. Let us reflect that each one of us is a thought of God.

It would seem that by our sorrows only are we called to a knowledge of the Infinite. Are we happy? The limits of life constrain us on all sides.