Burke said there were Three Estates in Parliament; but, in the Reporter's gallery yonder, there sat a fourth estate more important far than they all.

Rest is for the dead.

The modern majesty consists in work. What a man can do is his greatest ornament, and he always consults his dignity by doing it.

When new turns of behavior cease to appear in the life of the individual, its behavior ceases to be intelligent.

In the true Literary Man there is thus ever, acknowledged or not by the world, a sacredness: he is the light of the world; the world's Priest; -- guiding it, like a sacred Pillar of Fire, in its dark pilgrimage through the waste of Time.

If an eloquent speaker speak not the truth, is there a more horrid kind of object in creation?

Time has only a relative existence.