Tread Lightly, she is near Under the snow, Speak gently, she can hear The daisies grow.
Any place you love is the world to you.
Progress in thought is the assertion of individualism against authority.
Truth in art is the unity of a thing with itself: the outward rendered expressive of the inward: the soul made incarnate: the body instinct with spirit. For this reason there is no truth comparable to sorrow.
What is a cynic? A man who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing.
To get back my youth I would do anything in the world, except take exercise, get up early, or be respectable.