How is it that the poets have said so many fine things about our first love, so few about our later love? Are their first poems their best? or are not those the best which come from their fuller thought, their larger experience, their deeper-rooted affections? The boy's flute-like voice has its own spring charm; but the man should yield a richer, deeper music.

Nothing at times is more expressive than silence.

The greatest benefit we owe to the artist, whether painter, poet, or novelist, is the extension of our sympathies.

Death is the king of this world: 'Tis his park where he breeds life to feed him. Cries of pain are music for his banquet.

When one is grateful for something too good for common thanks, writing is less unsatisfactory than speech-one does not, at least, hear how inadequate the words are.

I think what we call the dullness of things is a disease in ourselves. Else how could anyone find an intense interest in life? And many do.

Any coward can fight a battle when he's sure of winning; but give me the man who has the pluck to fight when he's sure of losing.