He that can work is born to be king of something.

Histories are a kind of distilled newspapers.

Every noble crown is, and on Earth will forever be, a crown of thorns.

One must verify or expel his doubts, and convert them into the certainty of Yes or NO.

Heroes have gone out; quacks have come in; the reign of quacks has not ended with the nineteenth century. The sceptre is held with a firmer grasp; the empire has a wider boundary. We are all the slaves of quackery in one shape or another. Indeed, one portion of our being is always playing the successful quack to the other.

Nature, after all, is still the grand agent in making poets.

Caution is the lower story of prudence.