About Ralph Waldo Emerson
It is natural to believe in great men.
Every hero becomes a bore at last.
It happened, when in Paris, in 1833, that, in the cemetery of Pere le Chaise, I came to a tomb of Auguste Collignon, who died in 1830, aged sixty-eight years
Cut these words, and they would bleed; they are vascular and alive.
Plato is philosophy, and philosophy, Plato
Shakspeare is as much out of the category of eminent authors, as he is out of the crowd.
Socrates loved Athens; Montaigne, Paris
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