Great perils have this beauty, that they bring to light the fraternity of strangers.

We are all under sentence of death, but with a sort of indefinite reprieve.

Strong and rare natures are thus created; misery, almost always a stepmother, is sometimes a mother; privation gives birth to power of soul and mind; distress is the nurse of self-respect; misfortune is a good breast for great souls.

God has bestowed two gifts on man: hope and ignorance. Ignorance is the better of the two.

Look not at the face, young girl, look at the heart. The heart of a handsome young man is often deformed. There are hearts in which love does not keep. Young girl, the pine is not beautiful; it is not beautiful like the poplar, but it keeps its foliage in winter.

Brothers, he who dies here dies in the radiance of the future, and we are entering a tomb all flooded with the dawn.

The jostling of young minds against each other has this wonderful attribute, that one can never foresee the spark, nor predict the flash. What will spring up in a moment? Nobody knows.