I love old moons. There is something humanized about them; they are dulled a little, and rich in color. One can stare all night at an old moon.

a sarcastic expression, on a beast, is far more sinister than rage.

Songs are usually unfit for whistling - indeed, whistling (except to the person doing it) is unbearable.

timeliness is an enemy to art.

the breeze brought us a faint sound, as of a distant rat, a huge and mystic rat, gnawing, maybe, at the horizon!

A farm is like a very large and extended baby. It takes a great deal of time and very little mentality.

But I shall like my battle. This sort of day puts one in mood for it. Plenty of wood in the shed, jam and potatoes and apples in the cellar, hay and oats and Cressy in the barn. Pooh - what is winter?