One may certainly admire man as a mighty genius of construction, who succeeds in piling an infinitely complicated dome of concepts upon an unstable foundation, and, as it were, on running water.

Where is the man to be found who wishes to remain indebted for the defense of his own person and property to the exertions, the bravery, and the blood of others, without making one generous effort to repay the debt of honor and gratitude?

My genius is in my nostrils.

There are slavish souls who carry their appreciation for favors done them so far that they strangle themselves with the rope of gratitude.

True beauty consists of purity of heart.

The difference between genius and stupidity is; genius has its limits.