One picture in ten thousand, perhaps, ought to live in the applause of mankind, from generation to generation until the colors fade and blacken out of sight or the canvas rot entirely away.

Salt is white and pure - there is something holy in salt.

Let the black flower blossom as it may!

Nobody, I think, ought to read poetry, or look at pictures or statues, who cannot find a great deal more in them than the poet or artist has actually expressed. Their highest merit is suggestiveness.

There is no season when such pleasant and sunny spots may be lighted on, and produce so pleasant an effect on the feelings as now in October.

We must not always talk in the market-place of what happens to us in the forest.

The inward pleasure of imparting pleasure - that is the choicest of all.