Justice Is The Right Of The Weakest.

The Voice Is A Human Sound Which Nothing Inanimate Can Perfectly Imitate. It Has An Authority And An Insinuating Property Which Writing Lacks. It Is Not Merely So Much Air, But Air Modulated And Impregnated With Life.

The Evening Of A Well Spent Youth Brings It's Lamps With It.

I Resemble The Poplar,--that Tree Which, Even When Old, Still Looks Young.

Genius Begins Great Works; Labor Alone Finishes Them.

Thoughts There Are, That Need No Embodying, No Form, No Expression. It Is Enough To Hint At Them Vaguely; A Word, And They Are Heard And Seen.