Work is the grand cure of all the maladies and miseries that ever beset mankind.
I had a lifelong quarrel with God, but in the end we made up.
History after all is the true poetry.
A background of wrath, which can be stirred up to the murderous infernal pitch, does lie in every man.
Wealth of a man is the number of things which he loves and blesses which he is loved and blessed by.
Does not every true man feel that he is himself made higher by doing reverence to what is really above him?