Happiness is not a matter of events; it depends upon the tides of the mind.

Terrestrial scenery is much, but it is not all. Men go in search of it; but the celestial scenery journeys to them; it goes its way round the world. It has no nation, it costs no wearinesss, it knows no bonds.

But, visiting Sea, your love doth press / And reach in further than you know, / And fills all these; and, when you go, / There's loneliness in loneliness.

No mirror keeps its glances.

Our fathers valued change for the sake of its results; we value it in the act.

O daisy mine, what will it be to look / From God's side even of such a simple thing?

The true colour of life is the colour of the body, the colour of the covered red, the implicit and not explicit red of the living heart and the pulses. It is the modest colour of the unpublished blood.