...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.
Human society, the world, and the whole of mankind is to be found in the alphabet.
One of the hardest tasks is to extract continually from one's soul an almost inexhaustible ill will.
Hope is a delusion; no hand can grasp a wave or a shadow.
Wisdom is a sacred communion.
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.
Earnestness is the salt of eloquence.
The world of sleep has an existence of its own.
Inspiration and genius -one and the same.
There have been in this century only one great man and one great thing: Napoleon and liberty. For want of the great man, let us have the great thing.
Wonderful nature has a double meaning, which dazzles great minds and blinds uncultivated souls. When man is ignorant, when the desert is filled with visions, the darkness of solitude is added to the darkness of intelligence; hence, in man, the possibilities of perdition
The beautiful is as useful as the useful." He added after a moment’s silence, "Perhaps more so.
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."
The ox suffers, the cart complains.
Youth, even in its sorrows, always has a brilliancy of its own.
God made only water, but man made wine.
Brothers, he who dies here dies in the radiance of the future, and we are entering a tomb all flooded with the dawn.
She was sad with an obscure sadness of which she had not the secret herself. There was in her whole person the stupor of a life ended but never commenced.
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.
A day will come when markets, open to trade, and minds, open to ideas, will become the sole battlefield.
Habit is the nursery of errors.
He had not yet lived long enough to have discovered that nothing is more close at hand then the impossible, and that what must be looked for is always the unforeseen.
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.
And then, strange to say, the first symptom of true love in a young man is timidity; in a girl, it is boldness.
There are fathers who do not love their children; there is no grandfather who does not adore his grandson.
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