Why should we be startled by death? Life is a constant putting off of the mortal coil - coat, cuticle, flesh and bones, all old clothes.
I could not help being struck with the foolishness of that institution which treated me as if I were mere flesh and blood and bones, to be locked up.
We are all sculptors and painters, and our material is our own flesh and blood and bone.
Every man is the builder of a temple called his body.
Any nobleness begins at once to refine a man's features, any meanness or sensuality to imbrute them.