Do we not all agree to call rapid thought and noble impulse by the name of inspiration?

You know I have duties──we both have duties──before which feeling must be sacrificed.

And certainly, the mistakes that we male and female mortals make when we have our own way might fairly raise some wonder that we are so fond of it.

Beauty is part of the finished language by which goodness speaks.

Our instructed vagrancy, which has hardly time to linger by the hedgerows, but runs away early to the tropics, and is at home with palms and banyans - which is nourished on books of travel, and stretches the theatre of its imagination to the Zambesi.

In every parting there is an image of death.

Friendships begin with liking or gratitude- roots that can be pulled up.