We seem to think that the earth must go through the ordeal of sheep-pasturage before it is habitable by man.

I do not believe there are eight hundred human beings on the globe.

The life without men praise and regard as successful is but one kind. Why should we exaggerate any one kind at the expense of the others?

How many things there are concerning which we might well deliberate whether we had better know them.

The dry grasses are not dead for me. A beautiful form has as much life at one season as another.

The Grecian are youthful and erring and fallen gods, with the vices of men, but in many important respects essentially of the divine race.

Each thought that is welcomed and recorded is a nest egg, by the side of which more will be laid.