Nothing that we love overmuch Is ponderable to our touch.

Happiness is neither virtue nor pleasure nor this thing nor that but simply growth, We are happy when we are growing.

Designs in connection with postage stamps and coinage may be described, I think, as the silent ambassadors on national taste.

The true poet is all the time a visionary and whether with friends or not, as much alone as a man on his death bed.

The only enemy of innocence and beauty is time.

Who dreamed that beauty passes like a dream?

If what I say resonates with you, it's merely because we're branches of the same tree.