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Self-reliance, the height and perfection of man, is reliance on God.
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The world is his, who has money to go over it.
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I wiped away the weeds and foam, I fetched my sea-born treasures home; But the poor, unsightly, noisome things Had left their beauty on the shore, With the sun and the sand and the wild uproar.
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There are two laws discrete Not reconciled, Law for man, and law for thing.
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The manly part is to do with might and main what you can do.
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Alcohol, hashish, prussic acid, strychnine are weak dilutions. The surest poison is time.
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For there's no rood has not a star above it; The cordial quality of pear or plum Ascends as gladly in a single tree, As in broad orchards resonant with bees; And every atom poises for itself, And for the whole.
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The blazing evidence of immortality is our dissatisfaction with any other solution.
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Oh, tenderly the haughty day Fills his blue urn with fire.
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Whatever games are played with us, we must play no games with ourselves, but deal in our privacy with the last honesty and truth.
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The gods sell anything and to everybody at a fair price.
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Next to the originator of a good sentence is the first quoter of it.
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Every revolution was first a thought in one man's mind and when the same thought occurs in another man, it is the key to that era.
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Classics which at home are drowsily read have a strange charm in a country inn, or in the transom of a merchant brig.
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How can he today’s writer be honored, when he does not honor himself; when he loses himself in the crowd; when he is no longer the lawgiver, but the sycophant, ducking to the giddy opinion of a reckless public.
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There are men who astonish and delight, men who instruct and guide. Some men's words I remember so well that I must often use them to express my thought. Yes, because I perceive that we have heard the same truth, but they have heard it better.
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Things added to things, as statistics, civil history, are inventories. Things used as language are inexhaustibly attractive.
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Though thou loved her as thyself, As a self of purer clay, Tho' her parting dims the day, Stealing grace from all alive, Heartily know, When half-gods go, The gods arrive.
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If eyes were made for seeing, Then Beauty is its own excuse for being.
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Nor mourn the unalterable Days That Genius goes and Folly stays.
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In the vaunted works of Art The master-stroke is Nature's part. 5.
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'Tis very certain that each man carries in his eye the exact indication of his rank in the immense scale of men, and we are always learning to read it. A complete man should need no auxiliaries to his personal presence.
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A man should learn to detect and watch that gleam of light which flashes across his mind from within, more than the lustre of the firmament of bards and sages. Yet he dismisses without notice his thought, because it is his. In every work of genius we recognize our own rejected thoughts: they come back to us with a certain alienated majesty.
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The word liberty in the mouth of Mr. Webster sounds like the word love in the mouth of a courtesan.