The flower that smells the sweetest is shy and lowly.
Come forth into the light of things, let nature be your teacher.
Nature never did betray the heart that loved her.
Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.
Faith is a passionate intuition.
With an eye made quiet by the power of harmony, and the deep power of joy, we see into the life of things.
That though the radiance which was once so bright be now forever taken from my sight. Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, glory in the flower. We will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind.
How does the Meadow flower its bloom unfold? Because the lovely little flower is free down to its root, and in that freedom bold.
Life is divided into three terms - that which was, which is, and which will be. Let us learn from the past to profit by the present, and from the present, to live better in the future.
The child is father of the man.
Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.
What is pride? A rocket that emulates the stars.
Wisdom is oftentimes nearer when we stoop than when we soar.
To begin, begin.
The ocean is a mighty harmonist.
I listened, motionless and still; And, as I mounted up the hill, The music in my heart I bore, Long after it was heard no more.
What we need is not the will to believe, but the wish to find out.
That best portion of a man's life, his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love.
The best portion of a good man's life is his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love.
Pictures deface walls more often than they decorate them.
To me the meanest flower that blows can give thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
One impulse from a vernal wood May teach you more of man, Of moral evil and of good, Than all the sages can.
Suffering is permanent, obscure and dark, And shares the nature of infinity.
For I have learned to look on nature, not as in the hour of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes the still, sad music of humanity.