Those who meant well behaved in the same way as those who meant badly.

These are the sort of things people ought to look at. Things without pretensions, satisfied to be merely themselves.

They're old; they're about God hundreds of years ago. Not about God now" "But God doesn't change" "Men do though

The optimum population is modeled on the iceberg- eight-ninths below the water line, one-ninth above.

Habit converts luxurious enjoyments into dull and daily necessities.

We shall be permitted to live on this planet only for as long as we treat all nature with compassion and intelligence.

...two thirds of all sorrow is homemade and, so far as the universe is concerned, unnecessary.

It's a little embarrassing that after 45 years of research & study, the best advice I can give people is to be a little kinder to each other.

It isn't a matter of forgetting. What one has to learn is how to remember and yet be free of the past.

The leech's kiss, the squid's embrace, The prurient ape's defiling touch: And do you like the human race? No, not much.

Don't think of what's past!" said she. "I am not going to think outside of now. Why should we! Who knows what tomorrow has in store?

Many of her thoughts were perfect syllogisms; unluckily they always remained thoughts. Only a few were irrational assumptions; but, unfortunately, they were the ones which most frequently grew into deeds

Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.

All forms that perish other forms supply, (By turns we catch the vital breath and die) Like bubbles on the sea of matter borne, They rise, they break, and to that sea return.

Authors are partial to their wit, 'tis true, But are not critics to their judgment, too?

Know thy own point: this kind, this due degree Of blindness, weakness, Heav'n bestows on thee.

I have good reason to be content, for thank God I can read and perhaps understand Shakespeare to his depths.

You have absorb'd me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving.

To Sorrow I bade good-morrow, And thought to leave her far away behind; But cheerly, cheerly, She loves me dearly: She is so constant to me, and so kind.

You speak of Lord Byron and me; there is this great difference between us. He describes what he sees I describe what I imagine. Mine is the hardest task.

One of the most mysterious of semi-speculations is, one would suppose, that of one Mind's imagining into another

No sooner had I stepp'd into these pleasures Than I began to think of rhymes and measures: The air that floated by me seem'd to say 'Write! thou wilt never have a better day.

We have to hate our immediate predecessors to get free of their authority.

I cannot cure myself of that most woeful of youth's follies - thinking that those who care about us will care for the things that mean much to us.