Imagination is a licensed trespasser: it has no fear of dogs, but may climb over walls and peep in at windows with impunity.

Well, I aren't like a bird-clapper, forced to make a rattle when the wind blows on me. I can keep my own counsel when there's no good i' speaking.

Hobbies are apt to run away with us, you know; it doesn't do to be run away with. We must keep the reins.

In poor Rosamond's mind there was not room enough for luxuries to look small in.

Oh may I join the choir invisible Of those immortal dead who live again In minds made better by their presence.

We could never have loved the earth so well if we had had no childhood in it.

The human soul is hospitable, and will entertain conflicting sentiments and contradictory opinions with much impartiality.