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

Acorns are planted silently by some unnoticed breeze.

No man at bottom means injustice; it is always for some obscure distorted image of a right that he contends: an obscure image diffracted, exaggerated, in the wonderfulest way by natural dimness and selfishness; getting tenfold more diffracted by exasperation of contest, till at length it become all but irrecognis-able.

I've got a great ambition to die of exhaustion rather than boredom.

Pin thy faith to no man's sleeve. Hast thou not two eyes of thy own?

Once the mind has been expanded by a big idea, it will never go back to its original state.

Eyes bright, with many tears, behind them.