It is no discredit to Walt Whitman that he wrote Leaves of Grass, only that he did not burn it afterwards.

Character shows itself apart from genius as a special thing. The first point of measurement of any man is that of quality.

Many persons sigh for death when it seems far off, but the inclination vanishes when the boat upsets, or the locomotive runs off the track, or the measles set it.

Great men are rarely isolated mountain-peaks; they are the summits of ranges.

It is no discredit to Walt Whitman that he wrote Leaves of Grass, only that he did not burn it afterwards.

Genius is lonely without the surrounding presence of a people to inspire it.

After all, when a thought takes one's breath away, a lesson on grammar seems an impertinence. As Ruskin wrote in his earlier and better days, "No weight nor mass nor beauty of execution can outweigh one grain or fragment of thought.