Poetry being ... when we look from the center outward.
The reason of idleness and of crime is the deferring of our hopes.
It is a capital blunder; as you discover, when another man recites his charities.
The human heart concerns us more than the poring into microscopes, and is larger than can be measured by the pompous figures of the astronomer.
Live, let live, and help live
We are the prisoners of ideas.