I willingly confess to so great a partiality for trees as tempts me to respect a man in exact proportion to his respect for them.

In the scale of the destinies, brawn will never weigh so mach as brain.

The very gnarliest and hardest of hearts has some musical strings in it; but they are tuned differently in every one of us.

Democracy is that form of society, no matter what its political classification, in which every man has a chance and knows that he has it.

Whoever can endure unmixed delight, whoever can tolerate music and painting and poetry all in one, whoever wishes to be rid of thought and to let the busy anvils of the brain be silent for a time, let him read in the "Faery Queen."

What men call luck Is the prerogative of valiant souls, The fealty life pays its rightful kings.

Ah, in this world, where every guiding thread Ends suddenly in the one sure centre, death, The visionary hand of Might-have-been Alone can fill Desire's cup to the brim!