It has been so written, for the most part, that the times it describes are with remarkable propriety called dark ages. They are dark, as one has observed, because we are so in the dark about them.

Only that day dawns to which we are awake.

Some poems are for holidays only. They are polished and sweet, but it is the sweetness of sugar, and not such as toil gives to sour bread. The breath with which the poet utters his verse must be that by which he lives.

Not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves.

The morning wind forever blows, the poem of creation is uninterrupted; but few are the ears to hear it.

Take long walks in stormy weather or through deep snows in the fields and woods, if you would keep your spirits up. Deal with brute nature. Be cold and hungry and weary.

To say that God has given a man many and great talents frequently means that he has brought his heavens down within reach of his hands.