She waits for me, my lady Earth, Smiles and waits and sighs; I'll say her nay, and hide away, Then take her by surprise.

[On The Netherlands:] ... the entire country is a kind of saturated sponge.

[On the Netherlands:] There is not a richer or more carefully tilled garden spot in the whole world than this leaky, springy little country.

Now the noisy winds are still; April's coming up the hill! All the spring is in her train, Led by shining ranks of rain; Pit, pat, patter, clatter, Sudden sun and clatter patter!... All things ready with a will, April's coming up the hill!

Luxuries unfit us for returning to hardships easily endured before.

Life is a mystery as deep as ever death can be.

What a dreadful thing it must be to have a dull father.