Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing, only a signal shown, and a distant voice in the darkness; So on the ocean of life, we pass and speak one another, only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.

Whenever nature leaves a hole in a person's mind, she generally plasters it over with a thick coat of self-conceit.

Each morning sees some task begun, each evening sees it close; Something attempted, something done, has earned a night's repose.

The life of a man consists not in seeing visions and in dreaming dreams, but in active charity and in willing service.

Every man has his secret sorrows.

Is this is a dream? O, if it be a dream, Let me sleep on, and do not wake me yet!

The true poet is a friendly man. He takes to his arms even cold and inanimate things, and rejoices in his heart.