The eye of the intellect "sees in all objects what it brought with it the means of seeing."

Happy the People whose Annals are blank in History Books!

A good book is the purest essence of a human soul.

Terror itself, when once grown transcendental, becomes a kind of courage; as frost sufficiently intense, according to the poet Milton, will burn.

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.

If time is precious, no book that will not improve by repeated readings deserves to be read at all.

Alas! while the body stands so broad and brawny, must the soul lie blinded, dwarfed, stupefied, almost annihilated? Alas! this was, too, a breath of God, bestowed in heaven, but on earth never to be unfolded!