A painter told me that nobody could draw a tree without in some sort becoming a tree.

It is a capital blunder; as you discover, when another man recites his charities.

Pure by impure is not seen.

All loss, all pain, is particular; the universe remains to the heart unhurt.

Nature will not let us fret and fume. She does not like our benevolence or our learning much better than she likes our frauds andwars. When we come out of the caucus, or the bank, or the abolition-convention, or the temperance-meeting, or the transcendental club, into the fields and woods, she says to us, "so hot? my little Sir.

Enthusiasm is the engine of success.

You will always find those who think they know what is your duty better than you know it.