We are prisoners of ideas. The life of man is the true romance, which when it is valiantly conduced, will yield the imagination a higher joy than any fiction. Sooner of later that which is now life shall be poetry, and every fair and manly trait shall add a richer strain to the song. The power of love, as the basis of a State, has never been tried. Solitude, the safeguard of mediocrity.
Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of our own mind.
Money, which represents the prose of life, and which is hardly spoken of in parlors without an apology, is, in its effects and laws, as beautiful as roses. Nature is a mutable cloud, which is always and never the same. Nature hates calculators. Condense some daily experience into a glowing symbol, and an audience is electrified. To the poet, to the philosopher, to the saint, all things are friendly and sacred, all events profitable, all days holy, all men divine.