Nothing is more true, more real, than the primeval magnetic disturbances that two souls may communicate to one another, through the tiny sparks of a moment's glance.
In joined hands there is still some token of hope, in the clenched fist none.
I put a Phrygian cap on the old dictionary.
Is it not when the fall is the lowest that charity ought to be the greatest?
Greater than the tread of mighty armies is an idea whose time has come.
The owl goes not into the nest of the lark.