Flowers are the earth laughing.

My tongue is prone to lose the way,Not so my pen, for in a letterWe have not better things to say,But surely put them better.

We do not make a world of our own, but fall into institutions already made, and have to accommodate ourselves to them to be useful at all.

Our condition as men is risky and ticklish enough. One can not be sure of himself and his fortune an hour, but he may be whisked off into some pitiable or ridiculous plight.

I quote another man's saying; unluckily, that other withdraws himself in the same way, and quotes me.

A sublime hope cheers ever the faithful heart, that elsewhere, in other regions of the universal powers, souls are now acting, enduring and daring, which can love us, and which we can love.

All high beauty has a moral element in it.