A man's perfection is his work.
Alas! while the body stands so broad and brawny, must the soul lie blinded, dwarfed, stupefied, almost annihilated? Alas! this was, too, a breath of God, bestowed in heaven, but on earth never to be unfolded!
My books are friends that never fail me.
The press is the fourth estate of the realm.
There are good and bad times, but our mood changes more often than our fortune.
In the huge mass of evil as it rolls and swells, there is ever some good working toward deliverance and triumph.