The lovely flowers embarrass me. They make me regret I am not a bee.
Enough is so vast a sweetness I suppose it never occurs.
Some keep the Sabbath going to church, I keep it staying at home, with a bobolink for a chorister, and an orchard for a dome.
Nature is a haunted house--but Art--is a house that tries to be haunted.
To shut your eyes is to travel.
The Truth never flaunted a sign.