Whatever evil befalls us, we ought to ask ourselves... how we can turn it into good. So shall we take occasion, from one bitter root, to raise perhaps many flowers.

This garden has a soul, I know its moods.

The only place a new hat can be carried into with safety is a church, for there is plenty of room there.

There is no greater mistake in the world than the looking upon every sort of nonsense as want of sense.

The golden line is drawn between winter and summer. Behind all is blackness and darkness and dissolution. Before is hope, and soft airs, and the flowers, and the sweet season of hay; and people will cross the fields, reading or walking with one another; and instead of the rain that soaks death into the heart of green things, will be the rain which they drink with delight; and there will be sleep on the grass at midday, and early rising in the morning, and long moonlight evenings.

Oh for a seat in some poetic nook, Just hid with trees and sparkling with a brook!

There are two worlds: The world that we can measure with line and rule, and the world we feel with our hearts and imaginations.