The only happiness a brave person ever troubles themselves in asking about, is happiness enough to get their work done.

Fame, we may understand, is no sure test of merit, but only a probability of such; it is an accident, not a property of man.

No pressure, no diamonds.

What a wretched thing is all fame! A renown of the highest sort endures, say, for two thousand years. And then? Why, then, a fathomless eternity swallows it. Work for eternity; not the meagre rhetorical eternity of the periodical critics, but for the real eternity wherein dwelleth the Divine.

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

I should say sincerity, a deep, great, genuine sincerity, is the first characteristic of all men in any way heroic.

Egotism is the source and summary of all faults and miseries.