Cash-payment never was, or could except for a few years be, the union-bond of man to man. Cash never yet paid one man fully his deserts to another; nor could it, nor can it, now or henceforth to the end of the world.

To the mean eye all things are trivial, as certainly as to the jaundiced they are yellow.

Isolation is the sum total of wretchedness to a man.

All true work is sacred.

Genius is an infinite capacity for taking pains.

A person with half volition goes backwards and forwards, but makes no progress on even the smoothest of roads.

The aristocracy of feudal parchment has passed away with a mighty rushing, and now, by a natural course, we arrive at aristocracy of the money-bag.