I wish I were a girl again, half-savage and hardy, and free.

Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves.

I'm wearying to escape into that glorious world, and to be always there; not seeing it dimly through tears, and yearning for it through the walls of an aching heart; but really with it, and in it.

There is not room for Death, Nor atom that his might could render void: Thou - Thou art Being and Breath, And what Thou art may never be destroyed.

Treachery and violence are spears pointed at both ends; they wound those who resort to them worse than their enemies.

The entire world is a collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her.

But you might as well bid a man struggling in the water, rest within arm's length of the shore! I must reach it first, and then I'll rest.