If we didn't live venturously, plucking the wild goat by the beard, and trembling over precipices, we should never be depressed, I've no doubt; but already should be faded, fatalistic and aged.

Literature is strewn with the wreckage of men who have minded beyond reason the opinions of others.

It was a silly, silly dream, being unhappy.

The mind must be allowed to settle undisturbed over the object in order to secrete the pearl.

There is no room for the impurities of literature in an essay.

to teach without zest is a crime.

A light here required a shadow there.