Stay the course, light a star, Change the world where'er you are.
Nature is forever arriving and forever departing, forever approaching, forever vanishing; but in her vanishings there seems to be ever the waving of a hand, in all her partings a promise of meetings farther along the road.
On the contrary, woman is the best equipped fighting machine that ever went to battle.
I meant to do my work today But a brown bird sang in the apple tree And a butterfly flitted across the field And all the leaves were calling me.
There is something mean in human nature that prefers to think evil, that gives a willing ear and a ready welcome to calumny, a sort of jealousy of goodness and greatness and things of good report.
A woman's beauty is one of her great missions.
Organized Christianity has probably done more to retard the ideals that were its founder's than any other agency in the world.
You can't fake it. Bad writing is a gift.
A critic is a man created to praise greater men than himself, but he is never able to find them.
It is the fine excesses of life that make it worth living.
The road recedes as the traveler advances, leaving a continuous present.
To all of us the thought of heaven is dear -Why not be sure of it and make it here?No doubt there is a heaven yonder too,But 'tis so far away - and you are near.Men talk of heaven, - there is no heaven but here;Men talk of hell, - there is no hell but here;Men of hereafters talk, and future lives,O love, there is no other life - but here.
A wholesome oblivion of one's neighbours is the beginning of wisdom.
Happy is the man who loves the woods and waters, Brother to the grass and well beloved of Pan; The earth shall be his, and all her laughing daughters. Happy the man.
All roads indeed lead to Rome, but theirs also is a more mystical destination, some bourne of which no traveller knows the name, some city, they all seem to hint, even more eternal.
The beauty we love is very silent. It smiles softly to itself, but never speaks.
We are all treading the vanishing road of a song in the air, the vanishing road of the spring flowers and the winter snows, the vanishing roads of the winds and the streams, the vanishing road of beloved faces.
Races and nations are thus ever ready to believe the worst of one another.
How much more interesting life would be if only more people had the courage and skill to act themselves, instead of abjectly understudying some one else!
The spiritual element, the really important part of religion, has no concern with Time and Space, temporary mundane laws, or conduct.
Time's horses gallop down the lessening hill.
There’s too much beauty upon this earth For lonely men to bear.
All religions have periods in their history which are looked back to with retrospective fear and trembling as eras of persecution, and each religion has its own book of martyrs.
Youth, however, can afford to enjoy even its melancholy; for the ultimate fact of which that melancholy is a prophecy is a long way off.
Though actually the work of man's hands - or, more properly speaking, the work of his travelling feet, - roads have long since come to seem so much a part of Nature that we have grown to think of them as a feature of the landscape no less natural than rocks and trees.
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