Nature is entirely indifferent to any reform. She perpetuates a fault as persistently as a virtue.

Each age has its choice of the death it will die.

To poke a wood fire is more solid enjoyment than almost anything else in the world.

To own a bit of ground, to scratch it with a hoe, to plant seeds, and watch the renewal of life - this is the commonest delight of the race, the most satisfactory thing a man can do.

The love of dirt is among the earliest of passions, as it is the latest.

Regrets are idle; yet history is one long regret. Everything might have turned out so differently.

If there was any petting to be done...he chose to do it. Often he would sit looking at me, and then, moved by a delicate affection, come and pull at my coat and sleeve until he could touch my face with his nose, and then go away contented.