I have not loved the world, nor the world me.

What makes a regiment of soldiers a more noble object of view than the same mass of mob? Their arms, their dresses, their banners, and the art and artificial symmetry of their position and movements.

I really cannot know whether I am or am not the Genius you are pleased to call me, but I am very willing to put up with the mistake, if it be one.

I think the worst woman that ever existed would have made a man of very passable reputation -- they are all better than us and their faults such as they are must originate with ourselves.

I doubt sometimes whether a quiet and unagitated life would have suited me - yet I sometimes long for it.

Are not the mountains, waves, and skies as much a part of me, as I of them?

On the ear Drops the light drip of the suspended oar.