When is man strong until he feels alone?
Sing, riding 's a joy! For me I ride.
We mortals cross the ocean of this world Each in his average cabin of a life; The bests not big, the worst yields elbowroom.
One may do whatever one likes. In art, the only thing is, to make sure that one does like it.
A man in armour is his armour's slave.
Oh, good gigantic smile o' the brown old earth, This autumn morning! How he sets his bones To bask i' the sun, and thrusts out knees and feet. From the ripple to run over in its mirth