Any life, no matter how long and complex it may be, is made up of a single moment - the read more

Any life, no matter how long and complex it may be, is made up of a single moment - the moment in which a man finds out, once and for all, who he is.

I think that I shall never see
A poem as lovely as a tree.
. . . read more

I think that I shall never see
A poem as lovely as a tree.
. . . .
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

Some boundless contiguity of shade.

Some boundless contiguity of shade.

Jock, when he hae naething else to do, ye may be aye sticking in
a tree; it will be read more

Jock, when he hae naething else to do, ye may be aye sticking in
a tree; it will be growing, Jock, when ye're sleeping.

Treading beneath their feet all visible things,
As steps that upwards to their Father's throne
Lead gradual.

Treading beneath their feet all visible things,
As steps that upwards to their Father's throne
Lead gradual.

O, my lord,
You said that idle weeds are fast in growth:
The prince my brother hath read more

O, my lord,
You said that idle weeds are fast in growth:
The prince my brother hath outgrown me far.

"Oh! what a vile and abject thing is man unless he can erect
himself above humanity." Here is a read more

"Oh! what a vile and abject thing is man unless he can erect
himself above humanity." Here is a bon mot and a useful desire,
but equally absurd. For to make the handful bigger than the
hand, the armful bigger then the arm, and to hope to stride
further than the stretch of our legs, is impossible and
monstrous. . . . He may lift himself if God lend him His hand of
special grace; he may lift himself . . . by means wholly
celestial. It is for our Christian religion, and not for his
Stoic virtue, to pretend to this divine and miraculous
metamorphosis.

Alas! worse every day! this colony grows backward like the tail
of a calf.
[Lat., Heu quotidie pejus! read more

Alas! worse every day! this colony grows backward like the tail
of a calf.
[Lat., Heu quotidie pejus! haec colonia retroversus crescit
tanquam coda vituli.]

Where is the pride of Summer,--the green prime,--
The many, many leaves all twinkling?--three
On the mossed read more

Where is the pride of Summer,--the green prime,--
The many, many leaves all twinkling?--three
On the mossed elm; three on the naked lime
Trembling,--and one upon the old oak tree!
Where is the Dryad's immortality?