Books are for the most part willfully and hastily written, as parts of a system to supply a want real or imagined.

Friends will not only live in harmony, but in melody.

How often we find ourselves turning our backs on our actual friends, that we might go and meet their ideal cousins.

When any real progress is made, we unlearned and learn anew what we thought we knew before.

I did not go to Boston, for with regard to that place I sympathize with one of my neighbors, an old man, who has not been there since the last war, when he was compelled to go. No, I have a real genius for staying at home.

I am from time to time congratulating myself on my general want of success as a lecturer; apparent want of success, but is it nota real triumph? I do my work clean as I go along, and they will not be likely to want me anywhere again. So there is no danger of my repeating myself, and getting to a barrel of sermons, which you must upset, and begin again with.