There is more than a morsel of truth in the saying, "He who hates vice hates mankind."

The facts of the present won't sit still for a portrait. They are constantly vibrating, full of clutter and confusion.

Our business is not to solve problems beyond our mortal powers, but to see to it that our thoughts are not unworthy of the great theme.

Ideas, like individuals, live and die. They flourish, according to their nature, in one soil or climate and droop in another. They are the vegetation of the mental world.

Men ardently pursue truth, assuming it will be angels' bread when found.

Birth is the sudden opening of a window, through which you look out upon a stupendous prospect. For what has happened? A miracle. You have exchanged nothing for the possibility of everything.

Our desires attract supporting reasons as a magnet the iron fillings.