There, by the starlit fences The wanderer halts and hears My soul that lingers sighing About the glimmering weirs.

In every American there is an air of incorrigible innocence, which seems to conceal a diabolical cunning.

June suns, you cannot store them To warm the winter's cold, The lad that hopes for heaven Shall fill his mouth with mould.

A moment's thought would have shown him. But a moment is a long time, and thought is a painful process.

Hope lies to mortals And most believe her, But man's deceiver Was never mine.

Existence is not itself a good thing, that we should spend a lifetime securing its necessaries: a life spent, however victoriously, in securing the necessaries of life is no more than an elaborate furnishing and decoration of apartments for the reception of a guest who is never to come. Our business here is not to live, but to live happily.

The laws of God, the laws of man, He may keep that will and can; Not I: let God and man decree Laws for themselves and not for me.