What men call social virtues, good fellowship, is commonly but the virtue of pigs in a litter, which lie close together to keep each other warm.

Most men I do not meet at all, for they seem not to have time; they are busy about their beans.

Simplify, simplify, simplify.

Where shall we look for standard English, but to the words of a standard man?

The poet will write for his peers alone. He will remember only that he saw truth and beauty from his position, and expect the time when a vision as broad shall overlook the same field as freely.

It is a thorough process, this war with the wilderness - breaking nature, taming the soil. feeding it on oats. The civilized man regards the pine tree as his enemy. He will fell it and let in the light, grub it up and raise wheat or rye there. It is no better than a fungus to him.

True friendship can afford true knowledge. It does not depend on darkness and ignorance.