Wisdom is not finally tested by the 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.

The press of my foot to the earth springs a hundred affections.

The proof of a poet is that his country absorbs him as affectionately as he has absorbed it.

All music is is what awakes from you when you are reminded by the instruments.

The smallest sprout shows there is really no death.

Some people are so much sunshine to the square inch.

The wild gander leads his flock through the cool night, Ya-honk! he says, and sounds it down to me like an invitation: The pert may suppose it meaningless, but I listen closer, I find its purpose and place up there toward the November sky.