Despots play their part in the works of thinkers. Fettered words are terrible words. The writer doubles and trebles the power of his writing when a ruler imposes silence on the people. Something emerges from that enforced silence, a mysterious fullness which filters through and becomes steely in the thought.

Curiosity is gluttony. To see is to devour.

For there are many great deeds done in the small struggles of life.

There is no vacuum in the human heart. Certain demolitions take place, and it is well that they do, but on condition that they are followed by reconstructions.

To pay compliments to the one we love is the first method of caressing, a demi-audacity venturing. A compliment is something like a kiss through a veil.

There is no rapture in the love which is prompted by esteem; such affection is lasting, not passionate.

Daring is the price of progress. All splendid conquests are the prize of boldness, more or less.