Unable are the loved to die, for love is immortality.
To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee, One clover, and a bee, And revery. The revery alone will do, If bees are few.
Nature is our eldest mother; she will do no harm.
How strange that nature does not knock, and yet does not intrude!
God is not so wary as we, else He would give us no friends, lest we forget Him! The charms of the heaven in the bush are superseded, I fear, by the heaven in the hand, occasionally.
If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire can ever warm me, I know that is poetry.
There is no Frigate like a book to take us lands away nor any coursers like a page of prancing Poetry.
If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.
Beauty is not caused. It is.
Success is counted sweetest by those who never succeed.