“There is music in all things, if men had ears.”

If I don’t write to empty my mind, I go mad.

I slept and dreamt that life was beauty; I woke and found that life was duty.

They used to say that knowledge is power. I used to think so, but I know now they mean money.

Since Eve ate the apple, much depends on dinner.

To have joy, one must share it.

I am not now That which I have been.

I have simplified my politics into an utter detestation of all existing governments; and, as it is the shortest and most agreeable and summary feeling imaginable.

One of the pleasures of reading old letters is the knowledge that they need no answer.

I only go out to get me a fresh appetite for being alone.

What’s drinking? A mere pause from thinking!

The leaves along the limpid streams of Eden? Is your course measur’d for ye? Or do ye Sweep on in your unbounded revelry Through an aerial universe of endless Expansion,–at which my soul aches to think,– Intoxicated with eternity.

All tragedies are finished by a death, All comedies are ended by a marriage.

Hearts will break – yet brokenly, live on.

Why I came here, I know not; where I shall go it is useless to inquire – in the midst of myriads of the living and the dead worlds, stars, systems, infinity, why should I be anxious about an atom?

Always laugh when you can; it is cheap medicine. Merriment is a philosophy not well understood. It is the sunny side of existence.

Till taught by pain, men know not water’s worth.