Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands; And walk among long dappled grass, And pluck till time and times are done The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun.

The brawling of a sparrow in the eaves The brilliant moon and all the milky sky And all that famous harmony of leaves Had blotted out man's image and his cry.

I'm looking for the face I had, before the world was made.

I believe... that our memories are part of one great memory, the memory of Nature herself.

The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity.

I Sing what was lost and dread what was won, / I walk in a battle fought over again.

Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire.