God Is An Unutterable Sigh, Planted In

I Would Rather Dwell In The Dim Fog Of Superstition Than In Air Rarefied To Nothing By The Air-pump Of Unbelief-in Which The Panting Breast Expires, Vainly And Convulsively Gasping For Breath.

The Conscience Of Children Is Formed By The Influences That Surround Them; Their Notions Of Good And Evil Are The Result Of The Moral Atmosphere They Breathe.

A Variety Of Nothing Is Superior To A Monotony Of Something.

For No One Does Life Drag More Disagreeably Than For Those Who Try To Speed It Up.

The Happiness Of Life Consists, Like The Day, Not In Single Flashes (of Light), But In One Continuous Mild Serenity. The Most Beautiful Period Of The Heart's Existence Is In This Calm Equable Light, Even Although It Be Only Moonshine Or Twilight. Now The Mind Alone Can Obtain For Us This Heavenly Cheerfulness And Peace.