And how nobly it raises our conceit of the mighty, misty monster, to behold him solemnly sailing through a calm tropical sea; his vast, mild head overhung by a canopy of vapor, engendered by his incom...
And even as this old guide-book boasts of the, to us, insignificant Liverpool of fifty years ago, the New York guidebooks are now vaunting of the magnitude of a town, whose future inhabitants, multitu...
Ah, Bartleby! Ah, humanity!
What are the comprehensible terrors of man compared with the interlinked terrors and wonders of God!
There is no folly of the beast of the earth which is not infinitely outdone by the madness of men.
تأمل كليهما، أعني البحر والبر، ألا ترى فيهما شبها غريبا لشيء مستقر في نفسك؟ إذ مثلما أن هذا المحيط المهول يحف بهذا البر الأخضر، كذلك فإن في روح الإنسان جزيرة حافلة بالسلام والبهجة ومحفوفة بمرعبات هذه...
Fifty years ago did Nathan Swain kill fifteen whales between a sunrise and a sunset. And that harpoon—so like a corkscrew now—was flung
Yet Dives himself, he too lives like a Czar in an ice palace of frozen sighs, and being a president of a temperance society, he only drinks the tepid tears of orphans.
Where lies the final harbor, whence we unmoor no more?
What business have I with this pipe? This thing that is meant for sereneness, to send up mild white vapors among mild white hairs, not among torn iron-grey locks like mine. I'll smoke no more.
Truth uncompromisingly told will always have its jagged edges.
Though in many of its aspects this visible world seems formed in love, the invisible spheres were formed in fright.
There are certain queer times and occasions in this strange mixed affair we call life when a man takes this whole universe for a vast practical joke, though the wit thereof he but dimly discerns, and...
The stillness of the calm is awful. His voice begins to grow strange and portentous. He feels it in him like something swallowed too big for the esophagus. It keeps up a sort of involuntary interior h...
The sky slides into blue, the bluffs into bloom; the rapid Mississippi expands; runs sparkling and gurgling, all over in eddies; one magnified wake of a seventy-four. The sun comes out, a golden huzza...
The more I consider this mighty tail, the more do I deplore my inability to express it. At times there are gestures in it, which, though they would well grace the hand of man, remain wholly inexplicab...
The classification of the constituents of a chaos, nothing less is here essayed.
The Past is the textbook of tyrants; the Future is the Bible of the Free.
That immaculate manliness we feel within ourselves, so far within us, that it remains intact though all the outer character seem gone; bleeds with keenest anguish at the undraped spectacle of a valor-...
Swerve me? The path to my fixed purpose is laid with iron rails, whereon my soul is grooved to run. Over unsounded gorges, through the rifled hearts of mountains, under torrents' beds, unerringly I ru...