Laying out grounds... may be considered as a liberal art, in some sort like poetry and painting.... it is to assist Nature in moving the affections... the affections of those who have the deepest perception of the beauty of Nature.

And mighty poets in their misery dead.

Books are yours, Within whose silent chambers treasure lies Preserved from age to age; more precious far Than that accumulated store of gold And orient gems, which, for a day of need, The Sultan hides deep in ancestral tombs. These hoards of truth you can unlock at will.

And I am happy when I sing.

The very flowers are sacred to the poor.

Golf is a day spent in a round of strenuous idleness.

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