I never read a novel, they have so little real life and thought in them.

Of all the men who were said to be my contemporaries, it seemed to me that John Brown was the only one who had not died.

No definition of poetry is adequate unless it be poetry itself. The most accurate analysis by the rarest wisdom is yet insufficient, and the poet will instantly prove it false by setting aside its requisitions. It is indeed all that we do not know.

There were times when I could not afford to sacrifice the bloom of the present moment to any work, whether of the head or hand. I love a broad margin to my life.

In human intercourse the tragedy begins, not when there is misunderstanding about words, but when silence is not understood.

Deep are the foundations of sincerity. Even stone walls have their foundation below the frost.

A healthy man, indeed, is the complement of the seasons, and in winter, summer is in his heart.