An Effort Made For The Happiness Of

Every Human Being Has, Like Socrates, An Attendant Spirit; And Wise Are They Who Obey Its Signals. If It Does Not Always Tell Us What To Do, It Always Cautions Us What Not To Do.

Work! Work! That Is My Unfailing Cure For All Troubles.

England May As Well Dam Up The Waters Of The Nile With Bulrushes As To Fetter The Step Of Freedom, More Proud And Firm In This Youthful Land Than Where She Treads The Sequestered Glens Of Scotland, Or Couches Herself Among The Magnificent Mountains Of Switzerland.

Even If Nothing Worse Than Wasted Mental Effort Could Be Laid To The Charge Of Theology, That Alone Ought To Be Sufficient To Banish It From The Earth ... What A Vast Amount Of Labour And Learning Has Been Expended, As Uselessly As Emptying Shallow Puddles Into Sieves! How Much Intellect Has Been Employed Mousing After Texts, To Sustain Preconceived Doctrines!

Flowers Have Spoken To Me More Than I Can Tell In Written Words. They Are The Hieroglyphics Of Angels, Loved By All Men For The Beauty Of Their Character, Though Few Can Decipher Even Fragments Of Their Meaning.