The poet who walks by moonlight is conscious of a tide in his thought which is to be referred to lunar influence.

It is reasonable that a man should be something worthier at the end of the year than he was at the beginning.

What stuff is the man made of who is not coexistent in our thought with the purest and sublimest truth?

Some have asked if the stock of men could not be improved,--if they could not be bred as cattle. Let Love be purified, and all therest will follow. A pure love is thus, indeed, the panacea for all the ills of the world.

Men must speak English who can write Sanskrit; they must speak a modern language who write, perchance, an ancient and universal one.

Where is the "unexplored land" but in our own untried enterprises? To an adventurous spirit any place--London, New York, Worcester, or his own yard--is "unexplored land," to seek which Frémont and Kane travel so far. To a sluggish and defeated spirit even the Great Basin and the Polaris are trivial places.

As long as there is satire, the poet is, as it were, particeps criminis.