Time Itself Is An Element.

To Every One [nature] Appears In A Form Of His Own. She Hides Herself In A Thousand Names And Terms, And Is Always The Same.

If A Poet Would Work Politically, He Must Give Himself Up To A Party; And So Soon As He Does That, He Is Lost As A Poet.

Commonplaceness, The Surrender To The Average, That Good Which Is Not Bad But Still The Enemy Of The Best - That Is Our Besetting Danger.

Everything Is Hard Before It Is Easy.

If You Treat Men The Way They Are You Never Improve Them. If You Treat Them The Way You Want Them To Be, You Do.