Now the heart is so full that a drop overfills it; We are happy now because God wills it.

Safe in the hallowed quiets of the past.

Creativity is not the finding of a thing, but the making something out of it after it is found.

Not a change for the better in our human housekeeping has ever taken place that wise and good men have not opposed it-have not prophesied that the world would wake up to find its throat cut in consequence.

They talk about their Pilgrim blood, their birthright high and holy! a mountain-stream that ends in mud thinks is melancholy.

I would hardly change the sorrowful words of the poets for their glad ones. Tears dampen the strings of the lyre, but they grow the tensor for it, and ring even the clearer and more ravishingly.

Blessed are they who have nothing to say and who cannot be persuaded to say it.