Oh, give us the man who sings at his work.

To reform a world, to reform a nation, no wise man will undertake; and all but foolish men know, that the only solid, though a far slower reformation, is what each begins and perfects on himself.

A vein of poetry exists in the hearts of all men.

Our works are the mirror wherein the spirit first sees its natural lineaments. Hence, too, the folly of that impossible precept, Know theyself; till it be translated into this partially possible one, know what thou canst work at.

Feel it in thy heart and then say whether it is of God!

The insignificant, the empty, is usually the loud; and after the manner of a drum, is louder even because of its emptiness.

A very sea of thought; neither calm nor clear, if you will, yet wherein the toughest pearl-diver may dive to his utmost depth, and return not only with sea-wreck but with true orients.