O hushed October morning mild, Begin the hours of this day slow, Make the day seem to us less brief... Retard the sun with gentle mist; Enchant the land with amethyst.

Possessing what we still were unpossessed by, Possessed by what we now no more possessed.

There are three things, after all, that a poem must reach: the eye, the ear, and what we may call the heart or the mind. It is the most important of all to reach the heart of the reader.

There are few sorrows, however poignant, in which a good income is of no avail.

A person will sometimes devote all his life to the development of one part of his body - the wishbone.

Man that is of woman born is apt to be as vain has his mother.

Anything more than the truth would have seemed too weak.