“Heaven lies about us in our infancy! Shades of the prison-house begin to close upon the growing boy.”
“The best portion of a good man's life is in his little nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love.”
“, with an eye made by quite by power of harmony, and the deep power of joy, We see into the life of things.”
“Thought and theory must precede all salutary action; yet action is nobler in itself than either thought or theory.”
“Hearing often-times the still, sad music of humanity, nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power to chasten and subdue.”
“No motion has she now, no force; she neither hears nor sees; rolled around in earth's diurnal course, with rocks, and stones, and trees.”
“That blessed mood in which the burthen of the mystery, in which the heavy and the weary weight of all this unintelligible world is lightened.”
“When from our better selves we have too long been parted by the hurrying world, and droop. Sick of its business, of its pleasures tired, how gracious, how benign in solitude.”
“Neither evil tongues, rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all the dreary intercourse of daily life, shall ever prevail against us.”
“For by superior energies; more strict affiance in each other; faith more firm in their unhallowed principles, the bad have fairly earned a victory over the weak, the vacillating, inconsistent good.”
“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.”
“I am already kindly disposed towards you. My friendship it is not in my power to give: this is a gift which no man can make, it is not in our own power: a sound and healthy friendship is the growth of time and circumstance, it will spring up and thrive li”
“Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting. The soul that rises with us, our life's star, hath had elsewhere its setting, and comet from afar: not in entire forgetfulness, and not in utter nakedness, but trailing clouds of glory do we come from God, who is our home.”
“Mark the babe not long accustomed to this breathing world; One that hath barely learned to shape a smile, though yet irrational of soul, to grasp with tiny finger -- to let fall a tear; And, as the heavy cloud of sleep dissolves, To stretch his limbs, becoming, as might seem. The outward functions of intelligent man.”