Youth is to all the glad season of life; but often only by what it hopes, not by what it attains, or what it escapes.
What is philosophy but a continual battle against custom?
Variety is the condition of harmony.
To us also, through every star, through every blade of grass, is not God made visible if we will open our minds and our eyes.
O poor mortals, how ye make this earth bitter for each other.
May blessings be upon the head of Cadmus, the Phoenicians, or whoever it was that invented books.