Hope is the struggle of the soul, breaking loose from what is perishable, and attesting her eternity.Collection: Hope
To know how to grow old is the master work of wisdom, and one of the most difficult chapters in the great art of living.Collection: Art
In this world, shipmates, sin that pays its way can travel freely, and without passport; whereas Virtue, if a pauper, is stopped at all frontiers.Collection: Travel
Let us speak, though we show all our faults and weaknesses, - for it is a sign of strength to be weak, to know it, and out with it - not in a set way and ostentatiously, though, but incidentally and without premeditation.Collection: Strength
Friendship at first sight, like love at first sight, is said to be the only truth.Collection: Friendship
At sea a fellow comes out. Salt water is like wine, in that respect.Collection: Respect
They talk of the dignity of work. The dignity is in leisure.Collection: Work
A smile is the chosen vehicle of all ambiguities.Collection: Smile
To produce a mighty book, you must choose a mighty theme. No great and enduring volume can ever be written on the flea, though many there be that have tried it.Collection: Great
To the last, I grapple with thee; From Hell's heart, I stab at thee; For hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee.
He piled upon the whale's white hump the sum of all the general rage and hate felt by his whole race from Adam down; and then, as if his chest had been a mortar, he burst his hot heart's shell upon it.
There are times when even the most potent governor must wink at transgression, in order to preserve the laws inviolate for the future.
Old age is always wakeful; as if, the longer linked with life, the less man has to do with aught that looks like death.
There are some persons in this world, who, unable to give better proof of being wise, take a strange delight in showing what they think they have sagaciously read in mankind by uncharitable suspicions of them.
Toil is man's allotment; toil of brain, or toil of hands, or a grief that's more than either, the grief and sin of idleness.
There is one knows not what sweet mystery about this sea, whose gently awful stirrings seem to speak of some hidden soul beneath.
Faith, like a jackal, feeds among the tombs, and even from these dead doubts she gathers her most vital hope.
There is no quality in this world that is not what it is merely by contrast. Nothing exists in itself.
There is no dignity in wickedness, whether in purple or rags; and hell is a democracy of devils, where all are equals.
Truth is the silliest thing under the sun. Try to get a living by the Truth and go to the Soup Societies. Heavens! Let any clergyman try to preach the Truth from its very stronghold, the pulpit, and they would ride him out of his church on his own pulpit bannister.
Let America first praise mediocrity even, in her children, before she praises... the best excellence in the children of any other land.
There are certain queer times and occasions in this strange mixed affair we call life when a man takes his whole universe for a vast practical joke.
Is there some principal of nature which states that we never know the quality of what we have until it is gone?
Heaven have mercy on us all - Presbyterians and Pagans alike - for we are all somehow dreadfully cracked about the head, and sadly need mending.
There is a touch of divinity even in brutes, and a special halo about a horse, that should forever exempt him from indignities.
Some dying men are the most tyrannical; and certainly, since they will shortly trouble us so little for evermore, the poor fellows ought to be indulged.