I desire that there be as many different persons in the world as possible; I would have each one be very careful to find out and preserve his own way.

The pleasure we feel in music springs from the obedience which is in it.

The hero is commonly the simplest and obscurest of men.

Is it the lumberman, then, who is the friend and lover of the pine, stands nearest to it, and understands its nature best? Is it the tanner who has barked it, or he who has boxed it for turpentine, whom posterity will fable to have been changed into a pine at last? No! no! it is the poet: he it is who makes the truest use of the pine-who does not fondle it with an axe, nor tickle it with a saw, nor stroke it with a plane. . . .

It is remarkable how closely the history of the apple tree is connected with that of man.

Every nail driven should be as another rivet in the machine of the universe, you carrying on the work.

The sea, vast and wild as it is, bears thus the waste and wrecks of human art to its remotest shore. There is no telling what it may not vomit up.