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.
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers.
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.
Golf is a day spent in a round of strenuous idleness.
Nature never did betray the heart that loved her.
Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.
The mind that is wise mourns less for what age takes away than what it leaves behind.
Wisdom is oftentimes nearer when we stoop than when we soar.
How does the Meadow flower its bloom unfold? Because the lovely little flower is free down to its root, and in that freedom bold.
Faith is a passionate intuition.
Pictures deface walls more often than they decorate them.
But an old age serene and bright, and lovely as a Lapland night, shall lead thee to thy grave.
The world is too much with us late and soon, getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours.
That best portion of a man's life, his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love.
The child is father of the man.
The best portion of a good man's life is his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love.
In modern business it is not the crook who is to be feared most, it is the honest man who doesn't know what he is doing.
Not without hope we suffer and we mourn.
Suffering is permanent, obscure and dark, And shares the nature of infinity.