Only I discern Infinite passion, and the pain Of finite hearts that yearn.

Shakespeare was of us, Milton was of us, Burns, Shelley, were with us. They watch from their graves!

How good is man's life, the mere living! How fit to employ all the heart and the soul and the senses forever in joy!

Truth is within ourselves. There is an inmost center in us all, where the truth abides in fullness.

When a man's busy, why leisure Strikes him as wonderful pleasure: 'Faith, and at leisure once is he? Straightway he wants to be busy.

A lion may die of an ass's kick.

There are those who believe something, and therefore will tolerate nothing; and on the other hand, those who tolerate everything, because they believe nothing.