Wisdom is not finally tested in schools, Wisdom cannot be pass'd from one having it to another not having it, Wisdom is of the soul, is not susceptible of proof, is its own proof, Applies to all stages and objects and qualities and is content, Is the certainty of the reality and immortality of things, and the excellence of things; Something there is in the float of the sight of things that provokes it out of the soul.

I will not descend among professors and capitalists.

Here or henceforward it is all the same to me, I accept Time absolutely.

A morning-glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books.

Produce great men, the rest follows.

I lean and loaf at my ease... observing a spear of summer grass.

Has anyone supposed it lucky to be born? I hasten to inform him or her that it is just as lucky to die, and I know it.