Divination seems heightened and raised to its highest power in woman.
Many can argue - not many converse.
Children are illuminated text-books, breviaries of doctrine, living bodies of divinity, open always and inviting their elders to peruse the characters inscribed on the lovely leaves.
While one finds company in himself and his pursuits, he cannot feel old, no matter what his years may be.
As education becomes inclusive, introspective, cosmic, promoting whole populations to power and privilege, it enthrones a vast, invisible, personal rule over the common mind.
Cleanse the fountain if you would purify the streams.
Inspiration must find answering inspiration.
One does not see his thought distinctly till it is reflected in the image of another's.
The true teacher defends his pupils against his own personal influence. He inspires self-trust. He guides their eyes from himself to the spirit that quickens him. He will have no disciples.
Enthusiasm imparts itself magnetically and fuses all into one happy and harmonious unity of feeling and sentiment.
Civilization degrades the many to exalt the few.
Wherever comes man comes tragedy and comedy also.
Books are the most mannerly of companions, accessible at all times, in all moods, frankly declaring the author's mind, without offense.
Life is one, religion one, creeds are many and diverse.
Every noble life becomes a revelation of the spirit which the love and joy of mankind cannot let perish from remembrance.
Plans made in the nursery Can change the course of history
A chaste generation would restore Paradise.
Anger is the resentment of the animal, and gentle blood alone makes the gentleman.
Our dreams drench us in senses, and senses steps us again in dreams.
One's outlook is a part of his virtue.
There are truths that shield themselves behind veils, and are best spoken by implication. Even the sun veils himself in his own rays to blind the gaze of the too curious starer.
Despair snuffs the sun from the firmament.
Like birds of passage, the instincts drift the soul adventurously beyond the horizon of sensible things, as if intent on convoying it to the mother country from whence it had flown.
Love is the key to felicity, nor is there a heaven to any who love not. We enter Paradise through its gates only.
A work of real merit finds favor at last.
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