With respect to duels, indeed, I have my own ideas. Few things in this so surprising world strike me with more surprise. Two little visual spectra of men, hovering with insecure enough cohesion in the midst of the unfathomable, and to dissolve therein, at any rate, very soon, make pause at the distance of twelve paces asunder; whirl around, and simultaneously by the cunningest mechanism, explode one another into dissolution; and, offhand, become air, and non-extant--the little spitfires!

The leafy blossoming present time springs from the whole past, remembered and unrememberable.

Men worship the shows of great men; the most disbelieve that there is any reality of great men to worship.

Coining "Dismal Science" as a nickname for Political Economy

A thought once awakened does not again slumber.

What is philosophy but a continual battle against custom?

A thinking man is the worst enemy the Prince of Darkness can have; every time such an one announces himself, I doubt not there runs a shudder through the nether empire; and new emissaries are trained with new tactics, to, if possible, entrap and hoodwink and handcuff him.