O Heaven, it is mysterious, it is awful to consider that we not only carry each a future Ghost within him; but are, in very deed, Ghosts!

The glory of a workman, still more of a master workman, that he does his work well, ought to be his most precious possession; like the honor of a soldier, dearer to him than life.

Nothing is more terrible than activity without insight.

The eye of the intellect "sees in all objects what it brought with it the means of seeing."

So much of truth, only under an ancient obsolete vesture, but the spirit of it still true, do I find in the Paganism of old nations. Nature is still divine, the revelation of the workings of God; the Hero is still worshipable: this, under poor cramped incipient forms, is what all Pagan religions have struggled, as they could, to set forth.

Work is the grand cure of all the maladies and miseries that ever beset mankind.

Speech is human, silence is divine, yet also brutish and dead: therefore we must learn both arts.