Astronomy, that micography of heaven, is the most magnificent of the sciences. ... Astronomy has its clear side and its luminous side; on its clear side it is tinctured with algebra, on its luminous side with poetry.
Men like me are impossible until the day when they become necessary.
Earnestness is the salt of eloquence.
Happiness wishes everybody happy.
By putting forward the hands of the clock you shall not advance the hour.
...But listen, there will be more joy in heaven over the tears of a repentant sinner than over the white robes of a hundred just men.
If a writer wrote merely for his time, I would have to break my pen and throw it away.
If I were Jesus Christ, I would save Judas.
Wisdom is a sacred communion.
The ox suffers, the cart complains.
Winter is on my head, but eternal spring is in my heart. The nearer I approach the end, the plainer I hear around me the immortal symphonies of the worlds which invite me. . . . For half a century I have been writing thoughts in prose, verse, history, drama, romance, tradition, satire, ode, and song. I have tried them all, but I feel I have not said a thousandth part of that which is within me. When I go down to the grave, I can say "I have finished my day's work," but I cannot say "I have finished my life's work."
In winter there is no heat, no light, no noon, evening touches morning, there is fog, and mist, the window is frosted, and you cannot see clearly. The sky is but the mouth of a cave. The whole day is the cave.... Frightful season! Winter changes into stone the water of heaven and the heart of man.
Youth, even in its sorrows, always has a brilliancy of its own.
Inspiration and genius -one and the same.
Brothers, he who dies here dies in the radiance of the future, and we are entering a tomb all flooded with the dawn.
Gutenberg's invention of printing is the greatest event-the mother of revolution
There is but one way of refusing To-morrow, that is to die.
God made only water, but man made wine.
And then, strange to say, the first symptom of true love in a young man is timidity; in a girl, it is boldness.
A day will come when markets, open to trade, and minds, open to ideas, will become the sole battlefield.
A garden to walk in and immensity to dream in--what more could he ask? A few flowers at his feet and above him the stars.
Habit is the nursery of errors.
As for methods of prayer, all of them are good as long as they are sincere.
There are fathers who do not love their children; there is no grandfather who does not adore his grandson.
When grace combines with wrinkles, it is admirable. There is an indescribable light of dawn about intensely happy old age. . . . The young person is handsome, but the old, superb.
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