Want is a growing giant whom the coat of Have was never large enough to cover.

A man s growth is seen in the successive choirs of his friends.

I hate the giving of the hand unless the whole man accompanies it.

How much finer things are in composition than alone.

The first wealth is health.

Heaven is large, and affords space for all modes of love and fortitude.

Overhead the sanctities of the stars shine forever-more... pouring satire on the pompous business of the day which they close, and making the generations of men show slight and evanescent.

Every hero becomes a bore at last.

The hero is suffered to be himself.

History is the action and reaction of these two, nature and thought-two boys pushing each other on the curbstone of the pavement.