Solitude is separate experience.

Let us turn to our own childhoods-no further-if we will renew our sense of remoteness, and of the mystery of change.

No mirror keeps its glances.

The cloud controls the light ... It is the cloud that, holding the sun's rays in a sheaf as a giant holds a handful of spears, strikes the horizon, touches the extreme edge with a delicate revelation of light, or suddenly puts it out and makes the foreground shine.

Spirit of place! It is for this we travel, to surprise its subtlety; and where it is a strong and dominant angel, that place, seen once, abides entire in the memory with all its own accidents, its habits, its breath, its name.

The sense of humor has other things to do than to make itself conspicuous in the act of laughter.

Rome in the ages, dimmed with all her towers, / Floats in the mist, a little cloud at tether.