I dare say I am compelled, unconsciously compelled, now to write volume after volume, as in past years I was read more

I dare say I am compelled, unconsciously compelled, now to write volume after volume, as in past years I was compelled to go to sea, voyage after voyage. Leaves must follow upon each other as leagues used to follow in the days gone by, on and on to the appointed end, which, being truth itself, is one -- one for all men and for all occupations.

I would live to study, and not study to live.

I would live to study, and not study to live.

Poetry is life distilled.

Poetry is life distilled.

You, the Spirit of the Settlement! ... Not understand that America is God's crucible, the great melting-pot where all the read more

You, the Spirit of the Settlement! ... Not understand that America is God's crucible, the great melting-pot where all the races of Europe are melting and re-forming! Here, you stand, good folk, think I, when I see them at Ellis Island, here you stand in your fifty groups, with your fifty languages and histories, and your fifty blood hatreds and rivalries... - Melting Pot, The.

Writing is the only profession where no one considers you ridiculous if you earn no money.

Writing is the only profession where no one considers you ridiculous if you earn no money.

After all, all he did was string together a lot of old, well-known quotations.

After all, all he did was string together a lot of old, well-known quotations.

Literature is mostly about sex and not much about having children; and life is the other way around.

Literature is mostly about sex and not much about having children; and life is the other way around.

A sequel is an admission that you've been reduced to imitating yourself.

A sequel is an admission that you've been reduced to imitating yourself.

The dancing pair that simply sought renown,By holding out to tire each other down;The swain mistrustless of his smutted face,While read more

The dancing pair that simply sought renown,By holding out to tire each other down;The swain mistrustless of his smutted face,While secret laughter titter'd round the place;The bashful virgin's side-long looks of love,The matrons glance that would those looks reprove:These were thy charms, sweet village; sports like these,With sweet succession, taught e'en toil to please;These were thy bowers their cheerful influence shed,These were thy charms -- but all these charms are fled. - Deserted Village, The.