Loquacity with tongue or pen is its own reward -- or, punishment.
Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.
How unspeakably the lengthening of memories in common endears our old friends!
The sweetest of all success is that which one wins by hard exertion.
It is the way with half the truth amidst which we live, that it only haunts us and makes dull pulsations that are never born into sound.
It is in these acts called trivialities that the seeds of joy are forever wasted, until men and women look round with haggard faces at the devastation their own waste has made, and say, the earth bears no harvest of sweetness - calling their denial knowledge.