There is a kind of latent omniscience not only in every man but in every particle.—Emerson.
It is in those acts called trivialities that the seeds of joy are forever wasted, until men and women look round with haggard faces at the devastation their own waste has made, and say, the earth bears no harvest of sweetness—calling their denial knowledge.—George Eliot.
The chains which cramp us most are those which weigh on us least.—Madame Swetchine.
Little things console us, because little things afflict us.—Pascal.
Trouble.—Annoyance is man's leaven; the element of movement, without which we would grow mouldy.—Feuchtersleben.
Truth.—Veracity is a plant of Paradise, and the seeds have never flourished beyond the walls.—George Eliot.
Nothing so beautiful as truth.—Des Cartes.
All high truth is poetry. Take the results of science: they glow with beauty, cold and hard as are the methods of reaching them.—Charles Buxton.
Truth never turns to rebuke falsehood; her own straightforwardness is the severest correction.—Thoreau.
Whenever you look at human nature in masses, you find every truth met by a counter truth, and both equally true.—Charles Buxton.