“The soul's joy lies in doing.”
“Familiar acts are beautiful through love.”
“To be omnipotent but friendless is to reign.”
“There is no real wealth but the labor of man.”
“Cold hopes swarm like worms within our living clay.”
“O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?”
“How wonderful is death! Death and his brother sleep.”
“The more we study the more we discover our ignorance.”
“Man who man would be, must rule the empire of himself.”
“The great instrument of moral good is the imagination.”
“Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world.”
“Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.”
“The gigantic shadows which futurity casts upon the present.”
“Revenge is the naked idol of the worship of a semi-barbarous age.”
“Power, like a desolating pestilence, pollutes whatever it touches.”
“Tragedy delights by affording a shadow of the pleasure which exists in pain.”
“Death is the veil which those who live call life; They sleep, and it is lifted.”
“Man's yesterday may never be like his morrow; Nought may endure but Mutability.”
“The pleasure that is in sorrow is sweeter than the pleasure of pleasure itself.”
“Only nature knows how to justly proportion to the fault the punishment it deserves.”
“Poetry is the record of the best and happiest moments of the happiest and best minds.”
“War is the statesman's game, the priest's delight, The lawyer's jest, the hired assassin's trade.”
“Is it not odd that the only generous person I ever knew, who had money to be generous with, should be a stockbroker.”
“All of us, who are worth anything, spend our manhood in unlearning the follies, or expiating the mistakes of our youth.”
“Chastity is a monkish and evangelical superstition, a greater foe to natural temperance even than unintellectual sensuality.”
“In a drama of the highest order there is little food for censure or hatred; it teaches rather self-knowledge and self-respect.”
“Life may change, but it may fly not; Hope may vanish, but can die not; Truth be veiled, but still it burneth; Love repulsed, -- but it returneth.”
“There is a harmony in autumn, and a luster in its sky, which through the summer is not heard or seen, as if it could not be, as if it had not been!”
“The Galilean is not a favorite of mine. So far from owing him any thanks for his favor, I cannot avoid confessing that I owe a secret grudge to his carpentership.”
“Reviewers, with some rare exceptions, are a most stupid and malignant race. As a bankrupt thief turns thief-taker in despair, so an unsuccessful author turns critic.”