The sunshine was delightful, the foliage gently astir, more from the activity of birds than from the breeze. One gallant little bird, doubtless lovelorn, was singing his heart out at the top of a tall tree.

When a woman is talking to you, listen to what she says with her eyes.

Creation lives, grows, and multiplies; man is but a witness.

Sometimes he used a spade in his garden, and sometimes he read and wrote. He had but one name for these two kinds of labor; he called them gardening. ‘The Spirit is a garden,’ said he

...there is a point when the unfortunate and the infamous are associated and confused in a word, a mortal word, les miserables

Nature, like a kind and smiling mother, lends herself to our dreams and cherishes our fancies.

A stout heart may be ruined in fortune but not in spirit.