The lover wants no partiality. He says, Be so kind as to be just.

There are various tough problems yet to solve, and we must shift to live, betwixt spirit and matter, such a human life as we can.

Much verse fails of being poetry because it was not written exactly at the right crisis, though it may have been inconceivably near to it. It is only by a miracle that poetry is written at all. It is not recoverable thought, but a hue caught from a vaster receding thought.

Have no mean hours, but be grateful for every hour, and accept what it brings. The reality will make any sincere record respectable.

I have not earned what I have already enjoyed.

The West of which I speak is but another name for the Wild, and what I have been preparing to say is, that in Wildness is the preservation of the World

Why should we live with such hurry and waste of life? We are determined to be starved before we are hungry.