Night is certainly more novel and less profane than day.

Not till we are completely lost, or turned round, do we appreciate the vastness and strangeness of Nature.

When the leaves fall, the whole earth is a cemetery pleasant to walk in. I love to wander and muse over them in their graves. Here are no lying nor vain epitaphs.

How meanly and grossly do we deal with nature!

Our moments of inspiration are not lost though we have no particular poem to show for them; for those experiences have left an indelible impression, and we are ever and anon reminded of them.

Every child begins the world again.

The little things in life are as interesting as the big ones.