Our greatest glory is not in never failing, but in rising up every time we fail.
Hitch your wagon to a star.
Every man passes his life in the search after friendship.
For everything you miss you gain something else.
The world belongs to the energetic.
Do what you fear and your fear will die.
But in the mud and scum of things
There always, always something sings.
What I need is someone who will make me do what I can.
No law can be sacred to me but that of my nature. Good and bad are but names very readily transferable to that or this. The only right is what is after my constitution; the only wrong what is against it.
It was a high counsel that I once heard given to a young person, "Always do what you are afraid to do."
We lie in the lap of immense intelligence, which makes us receiver of its truth and organs of its activity.? When we discern justice, when we discern truth, we do nothing of ourselves, but allow passage to its beams.
Men imagine that they communicate their virtue or vice only by overt actions, and do not see that virtue or vice emit a breath every moment.
My tongue is prone to lose the way,
Not so my pen, for in a letter
We have not better things to say,
But surely put them better.
In the woods too, a man casts off his years, as the snake his slough, and at what period soever of life, is always a child.
I hate quotations. Tell me what you know!
If you can not find the truth right where you are, where else do you expect to find it?
From within or from behind, a light shines through us upon things and makes us aware that we are nothing, but the light is all.
A true friend is somebody who can make us do what we can.
The force of character is cumulative.?All the foregone days of virtue work thier health into this.
Our moods do not believe in each other.?To-day I am full of thoughts, and can write what I please.? I see no reason why I should not have the same thought, the same power of expression, to-morrow.? What I write, whilst I write it, seems the most natural thing in the world; but yesterday I saw a dreary vacuity in this direction in which now I see so much; and a month hence, I doubt not, I shall wonder who he was that wrote so many continuous pages.? Alas for this infirm faith, this will not strenuous, this vast ebb of a vast flow!?I am God in nature; I am a weed by the wall.
He who is not everyday conquering some fear has not learned the secret of life.
The problem of restoring to the world original and eternal beauty is solved by the redemption of the soul... The reason why the world lacks unity, and lies broken and in heaps, is because man is disunited in himself.
The worlds, time, space, eternity, do seem to break out into joy.
A man must know how to estimate a sour face.? The sour face of the multitude, like thier sweet faces, have no deep cause, but are put on and off as the wind blows and the newspaper directs.