Not our logical faculty, but our imaginative one is king over us. I might say, priest and prophet to lead us to heaven-ward, or magician and wizard to lead us hellward.
The eternal stars shine out as soon as it is dark enough.
Oh, Heaven, it is mysterious, it is awful to consider that we not only carry a future Ghost within us; but are, in very deed, Ghosts!
In idleness there is a perpetual despair.
What is nature? Art thou not the living government of God? O Heaven, is it in very deed He then that ever speaks through thee, that lives and loves in thee, that lives and loves in me?
Society is founded upon Cloth;.
Happy the people whose annals are blank in the history books!
Laissez-faire, supply and demand-one begins to be weary of all that. Leave all to egotism, to ravenous greed of money, of pleasure, of applause-it is the gospel of despair.
It is great, and there is no other greatness-to make one nook of God’s Creation more fruitful, better, more worthy of God; to make some human heart a little wiser, manlier, happier-more blessed.
Every human being has a right to hear what other wise human beings have spoken to him. It is one of the Rights of Men; a very cruel injustice if you deny it to a man!
Democracy is, by the nature of it, a self-canceling business: and gives in the long run a net result of zero.
The devil has his elect.
The age of miracles is forever here.
History is a great dust heap.
Also, what mountains of dead ashes, wreck and burnt bones, does assiduous pedantry dig up from the past time and name it History.
The king is the man who can.
Pain was not given thee merely to be miserable under; learn from it, turn it to account.
We have not read an author till we have seen his object, whatever it may be, as he saw it.
He who would write heroic poems should make his whole life a heroic poem.
The suffering man ought really to consume his own smoke; there is no good in emitting smoke till you have made it into fire.