“No man for any considerable period can wear one face to himself and another to the multitude, without finally getting bewildered as to which may be the true.”

Mankind are earthen jugs with spirits in them.

Just as there comes a warm sunbeam into every cottage window, so comes a lovebeam of God’s care and pity for every separate need.

It contributes greatly towards a man’s moral and intellectual health, to be brought into habits of companionship with individuals unlike himself, who care little for his pursuits, and whose sphere and abilities he must go out of himself to appreciate.

The inward pleasure of imparting pleasure – that is the choicest of all.

To the untrue man, the whole universe is false- it is impalpable- it shrinks to nothing within his grasp. And he himself is in so far as he shows himself in a false light, becomes a shadow, or, indeed, ceases to exist.

Salt is white and pure – there is something holy in salt.

I want nothing to do with politicians. Their hearts wither away, and die out of their bodies. Their consciences are turned to india-rubber, or to some substance as black as that, and which will stretch as much.

If mankind were all intellect, they would be continually changing, so that one age would be entirely unlike another. The great conservative is the heart, which remains the same in all ages; so that commonplaces of a thousand years’ standing are as effective as ever.

Religion and art spring from the same root and are close kin. Economics and art are strangers.

There is an alchemy of quiet malice by which women can concoct a subtle poison from ordinary trifles.

Words – so innocent and powerless as they are, as standing in a dictionary, how potent for good and evil they become in the hands of one who knows how to combine them.

Though we speak nonsense, God will pick out the meaning of it.

My fortune somewhat resembled that of a person who should entertain an idea of committing suicide, and, altogether beyond his hopes, meet with the good hap to be murdered.

What we need for our happiness is often close at hand, if we knew but how to seek for it.

The world owes all its onward impulses to men ill at ease. The happy man inevitably confines himself within ancient limits.

Caresses, expressions of one sort or another, are necessary to the life of the affections as leaves are to the life of a tree. If they are wholly restrained, love will die at the roots.