Love not pleasure; love God. This is the Everlasting Yea, wherein all contradiction is solved.

Produce, produce! Were it but the pitifulest, infinitesimal fraction of a product, produce it in God's name. 'Tis the utmost thou hast in thee? Out with it then! Up, up! Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy whole might.

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

Narrative is linear, but action has breadth and depth as well as height and is solid.

Labor is life: from the inmost heart of the worker rises his God-given force, the sacred celestial life-essence breathed into him by Almighty God!

Terror itself, when once grown transcendental, becomes a kind of courage; as frost sufficiently intense, according to the poet Milton, will burn.

The essence of humor is sensibility; warm, tender fellow-feeling with all forms of existence.