Who cares what a man's style is, so it is intelligible,--as intelligible as his thought. Literally and really, the style is no more than the stylus, the pen he writes with; and it is not worth scraping and polishing, and gilding, unless it will write his thoughts the better for it. It is something for use, and not to look at. The question for us is, not whether Pope had a fine style, wrote with a peacock's feather, but whether he uttered useful thoughts.

The faultfinder will find faults even in paradise.

I think that Nature meant kindly when she made our brothers few. However, my voice is still for peace.

The light which puts out our eyes is darkness to us.

To some extent, mythology is only the most ancient history and biography. So far from being false or fabulous in the common sense,it contains only enduring and essential truth, the I and you, the here and there, the now and then, being omitted. Either time or rare wisdom writes it.

What is the singing of birds, or any natural sound, compared with the voice of one we love.

I wish to learn what life has to teach, and not, when I come to die, discover that I have not truly lived.