Vanity in an old man is charming. It is a proof of an open, nature. Eighty winters have not frozen him up, or taught him concealments. In a young person it is simply allowable; we do not expect him to be above it.
A mother is the best friend God ever gave.
There would not be so much harm in the giddy following the fashions, if somehow the wise could always set them.
It is the life of democracy to favor equality.
There is, indeed, no wild beast more to be dreaded than a communicative man having nothing to communicate.
In secluding himself too much from society, an author is in danger of losing that intimate acquaintance with life which is the only sure foundation of power in a writer.
Hope is the best part of our riches. What sufficeth it that we have the wealth of the Indies in our pockets, if we have not the hope of heaven in our souls?
He half retrieves a defeat who yields to it gracefully.
It is in vain that he seeks dominion abroad, who is not kingly at home.
The scope of an intellect is not to be measured with a tape-string, or a character deciphered from the shape or length of a nose.
Repose without stagnation is the state most favorable to happiness. "The great felicity of life," says Seneca, "is to be without perturbations.
Truth comes to us from the past, as gold is washed down from the mountains of Sierra Nevada, in minute but precious particles, and intermixed with infinite alloy, the debris of the centuries.
The opinions of the misanthropical rest upon this very partial basis, that they adopt the bad faith of a few as evidence of the worthlessness of all.
There are ceremonious bows that repel one like a cudgel.
Tis but a short journey across the isthmus of Now.
Intellectually, as politically, the direction of all true progress is towards greater freedom, and along an endless succession of ideas.
Neither love nor ambition, as it has often been shown, can brook a division of its empire in the heart.
Loss of sincerity is loss of vital power.
"There is nothing," says a correspondent of the New York Times, "which the business world discards as unpractical and useless so much as the quiet, thinking scholar. But this is the man who makes revolutions. Politicians are mere puppets in the hands of men of thought.
Melancholy sees the worst of things, things as they may be, and not as they are. It looks upon a beautiful face, and sees but a grinning skull.
Mortal beauty stings while it delights.
The first step toward greatness is to be honest, says the proverb; but the proverb fails to state the case strong enough. Honesty is not only "the first step toward greatness," - it is greatness itself.
He has but one great fear that fears to do wrong.
There are none so low but they have their triumphs. Small successes suffice for small souls.
Can that which is the greatest virtue in philosophy, doubt (called by Galileo the father of invention), be in religion what the priests term it, the greatest of sins?
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