“That inward eye/ Which is the bliss of solitude.”

Suffering is permanent, obscure and dark, And shares the nature of infinity.

He spake of love, such love as spirits feel In worlds whose course is equable and pure; No fears to beat away, no strife to heal,- The past unsighed for, and the future sure.

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting. Not in entire forgetfulness, and not in utter nakedness, but trailing clouds of glory do we come.

My heart leaps up when I behold

Let Nature be your teacher.

With an eye made quiet by the power of harmony, and the deep power of joy, we see into the life of things.

By all means sometimes be alone; salute thyself; see what thy soul doth wear; dare to look in thy chest; and tumble up and down what thou findest there.

A tale in everything.

And now I see with eye serene, The very pulse of the machine. A being breathing thoughtful breaths, A traveler between life and death.

O joy! that in our embers Is something that doth live, That nature yet remembers What was so fugitive!

There is creation in the eye.

Dust as we are, the immortal spirit grows Like harmony in music; there is a dark Inscrutable workmanship that reconciles Discordant elements, makes them cling together In one society.

Rest and be thankful.

In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts bring sad thoughts to the mind.

Wisdom is oftentimes nearer when we stoop than when we soar.

Nature never did betray the heart that loved her.