There are two kinds of genius. The first and highest may be said to speak out of the eternal to the present, and must compel its age to understand it; the second understands its age, and tells it what it wishes to be told.

Who is it needs such flawless shafts as fate? What archer of his arrows is so choice, or hits the white so surely?

Poetry is something to make us wiser and better, by continually revealing those types of beauty and truth, which God has set in all men's souls.

But life is sweet, though all that makes it sweet. Lessen like sound of friends departing feet; And death is beautiful as feet of friend. Coming with welcome at our journey's end.

No mud can soil us but the mud we throw.

To be young is surely the best, if the most precarious, gift of life.

The path of nature is, indeed, a narrow one, and it is only the immortals that seek it, and, when they find it, do not find themselves cramped therein.