Thou hast the keys of Paradise, oh, just, subtle, and mighty opium!

Often one's dear friend talks something which one scruples to call rigmarole.

The mere understanding, however useful and indispensable, is the meanest faculty in the human mind and the most to be distrusted.

I feel that there is no such thing as ultimate forgetting; traces once impressed upon the memory are indestructible.

Flowers... that are so pathetic in their beauty, frail as the clouds, and in their coloring as gorgeous as the heavens, had through thousands of years been the heritage of children - honored as the jewelry of God only by them - when suddenly the voice of Christianity, counter-signing the voice of infancy, raised them to a grandeur transcending the Hebrew throne, although founded by God himself, and pronounced Solomon in all his glory not to be arrayed like one of these.

No progressive knowledge will ever medicine that dread misgiving of a mysterious and pathless power given to words of a certain import.

All is finite in the present; and even that finite is infinite in it velocity of flight towards death. But in God there is nothing finite...Upon a night of earthquake he builds a thousand years of pleasant habitations for man. Upon the sorrow of an infant he raises oftentimes from human intellects glorious vintages that could not else have been.