I am out with lanterns, looking for myself.
It is better to be the hammer than the anvil.
How strange that nature does not knock, and yet does not intrude!
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.
Old age comes on suddenly, and not gradually as is thought.
Fortune befriends the bold.
They say that God is everywhere, and yet we always think of Him as somewhat of a recluse.
Where thou art, that is home.
November always seemed to me the Norway of the year.
The sun just touched the morning; The morning, happy thing, Supposed that he had come to dwell, And life would be all spring.
The pedigree of honey does not concern the bee; A clover, any time, to him is aristocracy.
To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee, -.
It is essential to the sanity of mankind that each one should think the other crazy – a condition with which the cynicism of human nature so cordially complies, one could wish it were a concurrence upon a subject more noble.
His mind of man, a secret makes I meet him with a start he carries a circumference in which I have no part.
Finite to fail, but infinite to venture.
I do not like the man who squanders life for fame; give me the man who living makes a name.
If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.
So instead of getting to Heaven, at last – I’m going, all along.
You left me boundaries of pain Capacious as the sea, Between eternity and time, Your consciousness and me.
Home is the definition of God.