In the huge mass of evil as it rolls and swells, there is ever some good working toward deliverance and triumph.

Rest is a fine medicine. Let your stomachs rest, ye dyspeptics; let your brain rest, you wearied and worried people of business; let your limbs rest, ye children of toil!

A man protesting against error is on the way towards uniting himself with all men that believe in truth.

The work an unknown good man has done is like a vein of water flowing hidden underground, secretly making the ground green.

Generations are as the days of toilsome mankind; death and birth are the vesper and the matin bells that summon mankind to sleep and to rise refreshed for new advancement. What the father has made, the son can make and enjoy; but has also work of his own appointed him. Thus all things wax and roll onwards: arts, establishments, opinions, nothing is ever completed, but ever completing.

There is precious instruction to be got by finding we were wrong.

The essence of humor is sensibility; warm, tender fellow-feeling with all forms of existence.