Society is founded upon Cloth.

The great soul of this world is just.

Oblivion is the dark page, whereon Memory writes her light-beam characters, and makes them legible; were it all light, nothing could be read there, any more than if it were all darkness.

All true work is sacred. In all true work, were it but true hand work, there is something of divineness. Labor, wide as the earth, has its summit in Heaven.

Stern accuracy in inquiring, bold imagination in describing, these are the cogs on which history soars or flutters and wobbles.

Experience takes dreadfully high school-wages, but he teaches like no other.

Reality, if rightly interpreted, is grander than fiction.