A lake carries you into recesses of feeling otherwise impenetrable.

That best portion of a man's life, his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love.

The clouds that gather round the setting sun do take a sober colouring from an eye that hath kept watch o'er man's mortality; another race hath been, and other palms are won. Thanks to the human heart by which we live, thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears, to me the meanest flower that blows can give thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.

By all means sometimes be alone; salute thyself; see what thy soul doth wear; dare to look in thy chest; and tumble up and down what thou findest there.

The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth.

Though inland far we be, Our souls have sight of that immortal sea Which brought us hither.

A deep distress has humanised my soul.