The world of sight is still limitless. It is the artist who limits vision to the cramped dimensions of his own ego.
People on horses look better than they are. People in cars look worse than they are.
Lie down and listen to the crabgrass grow.
The curse of the romantic is a greed for dreams, an intensity of expectation that, in the end, diminishes the reality.
In aid, the proper attitude is one omitting gratitude
Slowly the wasters and despoilers are impoverishing our land, our nature, and our beauty, so that there will not be one beach, one hill, one lane, one meadow, one forest free from the debris of man and the stigma of his improvidence.