There is precious instruction to be got by finding we were wrong.

Nature, after all, is still the grand agent in making poets.

The insignificant, the empty, is usually the loud; and after the manner of a drum, is louder even because of its emptiness.

Stern accuracy in inquiring, bold imagination in describing, these are the cogs on which history soars or flutters and wobbles.

Nature is the time-vesture of God that reveals Him to the wise, and hides him from the foolish.

What unknown seas of feeling lie in man, and will from time to time break through!

I have no patience whatever with these gorilla damnifications of humanity.