This London City, with all of its houses, palaces, steam-engines, cathedrals, and huge immeasurable traffic an tumult, what is it but a Thought, but millions of Thoughts made into One-a huge immeasurable Spirit of a Thought, embodied in brick, in iron, smoke, dust, Palaces, Parliaments, Hackney Coaches, Katherine Docks, and the rest of it! Not a brick was made but some man had to think of the making of that brick.

All evil is like a nightmare; the instant you stir under it, the evil is gone.

Of a truth, men are mystically united: a mystic bond of brotherhood makes all men one.

Labor, wide as the earth, has its summit in heaven.

I had a lifelong quarrel with God, but in the end we made up.

The depth of our despair measures what capability and height of claim we have to hope.

Unity, agreement, is always silent or soft-voiced; it is only discord that loudly proclaims itself.