Poetry And Art And Knowledge Are Sacred

I Cherish My Childish Loves--the Memory Of That Warm Little Nest Where My Affections Were Fledged.

Life Is Too Precious To Be Spent In This Weaving And Unweaving Of False Impressions, And It Is Better To Live Quietly Under Some Degree Of Misrepresentation Than To Attempt To Remove It By The Uncertain Process Of Letter-writing.

Do We Not All Agree To Call Rapid Thought And Noble Impulse By The Name Of Inspiration?

To Have In General But Little Feeling, Seems To Be The Only Security Against Feeling Too Much On Any Particular Occasion.

I Am Not Imposed Upon By Fine Words; I Can See What Actions Mean.