The first wealth is health.
The essence of greatness is the perception that virtue is enough.
The walking of Man is falling forwards.
We are prisoners of ideas.
There is no chance, and no anarchy, in the universe. All is system and gradation. Every god is there sitting in his sphere.
There is also this benefit in brag, that the speaker is unconsciously expressing his own ideal. Humor him by all means, draw it all out, and hold him to it.
I do then with my friends as I do with my books. I would have them where I can find them, but I seldom use them.
This ain’t fun. But you watch me, I’ll get it done.
There must be what Mr. Gladstone many years ago called a blessed act of oblivion. We must all turn our backs upon the horrors of the past. We must look to the future. We cannot afford to drag forward across the years that are to come the hatreds and revenges which have sprung from the injuries of the past.
Ah! Sir, a boy’s being flogged is not so severe as a man’s having the hiss of the world against him.
Everything intercepts us from ourselves.
Not only must we be good, but we must also be good for something.
Why should I be unhappy? Every parcel of my being is in full bloom.
There is no despair so absolute as that which comes with the first moments of our first great sorrow, when we have not yet known what it is to have suffered and be healed, to have despaired and have recovered hope.
Men talk as if victory were something fortunate. Work is victory.
Preaching is the expression of moral sentiments applied to the duties of life.
He is a benefactor of mankind who contracts the great rules of life into short sentences, that may be easily impressed on the memory, and so recur habitually to the mind.
If we encounter a man of rare intellect, we should ask him what books he reads.
Although personally I am quite content with existing explosives, I feel we must not stand in the path of improvement.
The wonder is always new that any sane man can be a sailor.
I do not believe that any man fears to be dead, but only the stroke of death.
Nobody can write the life of a man but those who have eat and drunk and lived in social intercourse with him.
