We are only the trustees for those who come after us.

If we feel the least degradation in being amorous, or merry or hungry, or sleepy, we are so far bad animals & miserable men.

Death have we hated, knowing not what it meant; Life we have loved, through green leaf and through sere, Though still the less we knew of its intent.

As to the garden, it seems to me its chief fruit is-blackbirds.

Free men must live simple lives and have simple pleasures.

The greatest foe to art is luxury, art cannot live in its atmosphere.

A pattern is either right or wrong...it is no stronger than its weakest point.