We grizzle every day. I see no need of it. Whilst we converse with what is above us, we do not grow old, but grow young.

The only gift is a portion of thyself . . . the poet brings his poem; the shepherd his lamb. . . .

What is the foundation of that interest all men feel in Greek history, letters, art, and poetry, in all its periods, from the Heroic or Homeric age down to the domestic life of the Athenians and Spartans, four or five centuries later? What but this, that every man passes personally through a Grecian period.

A man builds a fine house; and now he has a master, and a task for life.

England, an old and exhausted island, must one day be contented, like other parents, to be strong only in her children.

The passive master lent his hand, To the vast Soul which o'er him planned.

The philanthropists inquire whether Transcendentalism does not mean sloth: they had as lief hear that their friend is dead, as that he is a Transcendentalist; for then is he paralyzed, and can never do anything for humanity.