At present our only true names are nicknames.

In the production of the necessaries of life Nature is ready enough to assist man.

Every tree sends its fibres forth in search of the Wild. The cities import it at any price. Men plow and sail for it. From the forest and wilderness come the tonics and barks which brace mankind.

Who could believe in the prophecies ... that the world would end this summer, while one milkweed with faith matured its seeds.

Deep are the foundations of sincerity. Even stone walls have their foundation below the frost.

Not secondary to the sun, she gives us his blaze again, Void of its flame, and sheds a softer day... In Heaven queen she is among the spheres; She, mistress-like, makes all things to be pure.

We are double-edged blades, and every time we whet our virtue the return stroke strops our vice.