How beautiful to have the church always open, so that every tired wayfaring man may come in and be soothed by all that art can suggest of a better world when he is weary with this.

The idea of God ends in a paltry Methodist meeting-house.

Cities degrade us by magnifying trifles.

What is the city in which we sit here, but an aggregate of incongruous materials, which have obeyed the will of some man?

Man exists for his own sake and not to add a laborer to the State.

People who wash much have a high mind about it, and talk down to those who wash little.

Common sense is as rare as genius.

Poverty, Frost, Famine, Rain, Disease, are the beadles and guardsmen that hold us to Common Sense.

Use what language you will, you can never say anything but what you are.

When the eyes say one thing, and the tongue another, a practised man relies on the language of the first.