Human madness is oftentimes a cunning and most feline thing.
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.
Starbuck was no crusaders after perils; in him courage was not a sentiment; but a thing simply useful to him, and always at hand upon all mortally practical occasions.
Hope is the struggle of the soul, breaking loose from what is perishable, and attesting her eternity.
To a sensitive being, pity is not seldom pain.
Flight from tyranny does not of itself insure a safe asylum, far less a happy home.