It is a terrible thing to be happy! How pleased we are with it! How all-sufficient we think it! How, being in possession of the false aim of life, happiness, we forget the true aim, duty!
The ox suffers, the cart complains.
A great artist is a great man in a great child.
This book should be read as one would read the book of a dead man.
God put in man thought; society, action; nature, revery.
...It all seemed to him to have disappeared as if behind a curtain at a theater. There are such curtains that drop in life. God is moving on to the next act.