Love me, and tell me so sometimes

Genius is expansive, irresistible, and irresistibly expansive. If it is in you, no cords can confine it.

Every person is responsible for all the good within the scope of his abilities, and for no more,—and none can tell whose sphere is the largest.

It is the crushed grape that gives out the blood-red wine. It is the suffering soul that breathes the sweetest melodies.

Whatever an author puts between the two covers of his book is public property; whatever of himself he does not put there is his private property, as much as if he had never written a word.

Christ made no distinction, but opened the door wide to woman as to man.

Indeed, there is generally no such thing as duty to the people who really do it. They simply take life as it comes, meeting, not shirking, its demands, whether pleasant or unpleasant; and that is pretty much all there is of it.