Little men build up great ones, but the snow colossus soon melts; the good stand under the eye of God, and therefore stand.

Moroseness is the evening of turbulence.

Little men build up great ones, but the snow colossus soon melts; the good stand under the eye of God, and therefore stand.

Prose on certain occasions can bear a great deal of poetry; on the other hand, poetry sinks and swoons under a moderate weight of prose.

An ingenuous mind feels in unmerited praise the bitterest reproof. If you reject it you are unhappy, if you accept it you are undone.

A man's vanity tells him what is honor, a man's conscience what is justice.

The vain poet is of the opinion that nothing of his can be too much: he sends to you basketful after basketful of juiceless fruit, covered with scentless flowers.