Know what thou canst work at, and work at it like a Hercules.

True friends, like ivy and the wall Both stand together, and together fall.

No good book, or good thing of any sort, shows its best face at first.

Might and right do differ frightfully from hour to hour, but then centuries to try it in, they are found to be identical.

Of our thinking it is but the upper surface that we shape into articulate thought; underneath the region of argument and conscious discourse lies the region of meditation.

The mystery of a person, indeed, is ever divine to him that has a sense for the godlike.

In the true Literary Man there is thus ever, acknowledged or not by the world, a sacredness: he is the light of the world; the world's Priest; -- guiding it, like a sacred Pillar of Fire, in its dark pilgrimage through the waste of Time.