O Reader! had you in your mind Such stores as silent thought can bring, O gentle Reader! you would find A tale in everything.

Hearing often-times the still, sad music of humanity, nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power to chasten and subdue.

The Eagle, he was lord above

The soft blue sky did never melt Into his heart; he never felt The witchery of the soft blue sky!

Pictures deface walls more often than they decorate them.

Here must thou be, O man, Strength to thyself - no helper hast thou here - Here keepest thou thy individual state: No other can divide with thee this work, No secondary hand can intervene To fashion this ability. 'Tis thine, The prime and vital principle is thine In the recesses of thy nature, far From any reach of outward fellowship, Else 'tis not thine at all.

Give all thou canst; high Heaven rejects the lore of nicely-caluculated less or more.