Beauty is the moment of transition, as if the form were just ready to flow into other forms.

Good bye, proud world! I'm going home; Thou art not my friend, and I'm not thine

Astronomy to the selfish becomes astrology.

Society is frivolous, and shreds its day into scraps, its conversation into ceremonies and escapes.

But the mark of American merit in painting, in sculpture, in poetry, in fiction, in eloquence, seems to be a certain grace withoutgrandeur, and itself not new but derivative; a vase of fair outline, but empty,--which whoso sees, may fill with what wit and character is in him, but which does not, like the charged cloud, overflow with terrible beauty, and emit lightnings on all beholders.

Every spirit makes its house, and we can give a shrewd guess from the house to the inhabitant.

We ask for long life, but 'tis deep life, or noble moments that signify. Let the measure of time be spiritual, not mechanical.