The Arabian horse will not plough well, nor can the plough-horse be rode to play the jereed.

But the golden-rod is one of the fairy, magical flowers; it grows not up to seek human love amid the light of day, but to mark to the discerning what wealth lies hid in the secret caves of earth.

Pain has no effect but to steal some of my time.

A man who means to think and write a great deal must, after six and twenty, learn to read with his fingers.

Art can only be truly art by presenting an adequate outward symbol of some fact in the interior life.

I stand in the sunny noon of life. Objects no longer glitter in the dews of morning, neither are yet softened by the shadows of evening.

The critic is beneath the maker, but is his needed friend. The critic is not a base caviler, but the younger brother of genius. Next to invention is the power of interpreting invention; next to beauty the power of appreciating beauty. And of making others appreciate it.