Only what is thought, said, or done at a certain rare coincidence is good.

There is a slumbering subterranean fire in nature which never goes out, and which no cold can chill.

I thought, as I have my living to get, and have not eaten today, that I might go a- fishing. That's the true industry for poets. It is the only trade I have learned.

One cannot too soon forget his errors and misdemeanors. To dwell long upon them is to add to the offense.

Making a logging-road in the Maine woods is called "swamping" it, and they who do the work are called "swampers." I now perceivedthe fitness of the term. This was the most perfectly swamped of all the roads I ever saw. Nature must have coöperated with art here.

When I hear music, I fear no danger. I am invulnerable.

If you give money, spend yourself with it.