Man is but the place where I stand.

Perfect sincerity and transparency make a great part of beauty, as in dewdrops, lakes, and diamonds.

If it is surely the means to the highest end we know, can any work be humble or disgusting? Will it not rather be elevating as a ladder, the means by which we are translated?

We could not help contrasting the equanimity of Nature with the bustle and impatience of man. His words and actions presume alwaysa crisis near at hand, but she is forever silent and unpretending.

In my walks I would fain return to my senses.

People die of fright and live of confidence.

The squirrel that you kill in jest, dies in earnest.