To me the Universe was all void of Life, of Purpose, of Volition, even of Hostility; it was one huge, dead, immeasurable Steam-engine, rolling on, in its dead indifference, to grind me limb from limb. Oh vast gloomy, solitary Golgotha, and Mill of Death! Why was the living banished thither companionless, conscious? Why, if there is no Devil; nay, unless the Devil is your God?

Clever men are good, but they are not the best.

The greatest fault is to be conscious of none.

Wealth of a man is the number of things which he loves and blesses which he is loved and blessed by.

Prayer is and remains always a native and deepest impulse of the soul of man.

Weak eyes are fondest of glittering objects.

A man without a goal is like a ship without a rudder.