Wert thou all that I wish thee, great, glorious, and free, First flower of the earth and first gem of the sea.

Who first invented work, and bound the free And holiday-rejoicing spirit down . . . . To that dry drudgery at the desk's dead wood? . . . . Sabbathless Satan!

I could never hate anyone I knew.

Those evening bells! those evening bells! How many a tale their music tells Of youth and home, and that sweet time When last I heard their soothing chime!

We encourage one another in mediocrity.

How sickness enlarges the dimension of a man’s self to himself!

He might have proved a useful adjunct, if not an ornament to society.