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.

There are remedies for all things but death.

Blessed is he who has found his work; let him ask no other blessedness. He has a work, a life-purpose; he has found it, and will follow it! How, as a free-flowing channel, dug and torn by noble force through the sour mudswamp of one's existence, like an ever-deepening river there, it runs and flows

He that has done nothing has known nothing.

Dishonesty is the raw material not of quacks only, but also in great part dupes.

A poor creature who has said or done nothing worth a serious man taking the trouble of remembering.

The eye sees what it brings the power to see.