There is no wholly masculine man, no purely feminine woman.

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.

Only the dreamer shall understand realities, though in truth his dreaming must be not out of proportion to his waking.

I find no intellect comparable to my own

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.

Essays, entitled critical, are epistles addressed to the public, through which the mind of the recluse relieves itself of its impressions.

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