In all perception of the truth there is a divine ecstasy, an inexpressible delirium of joy, as when a youth embraces his betrothed virgin.

Death is beautiful when seen to be a law, and not an accident. It is as common as life.

Shall I not have intelligence with the earth? Am I not partly leaves and vegetable mould myself.

Why should not a poet's cat be winged as well as his horse?

Poetry is nothing but healthy speech.

Steady labor with the hands, which engrosses the attention also, is unquestionably the best method of removing palaver and sentimentality out of one's style, both of speaking and writing.

Let us spend one day as deliberately as Nature, and not be thrown off the track by every nutshell and mosquito's wing that falls on the rails.