There Are Ceremonious Bows That Repel One

To Cultivate A Garden Is. . . To Go Hand In Hand With Nature In Some Of Her Most Beautiful Processes, To Learn Something Of Her Choicest Secrets, And To Have A More Intelligent Interest Awakened In The Beautiful Order Of Her Works Elsewhere.

In Secluding Himself Too Much From Society, An Author Is In Danger Of Losing That Intimate Acquaintance With Life Which Is The Only Sure Foundation Of Power In A Writer.

The Method Of The Critic Is To Balance Praises With Censure, And Thus To Do Justice To The Subject And--his Own Discrimination.

It Is Easier To Die Bravely Than To Live So.

Like The Withered Roses Of A Once Gay Garland, The Feelings Of Youth Command In Age A Melancholy Interest.