[A]n English wit has well said that affectation displeases us because…

O Spring, I know thee! Seek for sweet surprise In the young children's eyes. But I have learnt the years, and know the yet Leaf-folded violet.

Thou art like silence unperplexed, A secret and a mystery Between one footfall and the next.

There is nothing in the world more peaceful than apple-leaves with an early moon.

Now, in our opinion, no author should be blamed for obscurity; nor should any pains be grudged in the effort to understand him, provided that he has done his best to be intelligible. Difficult thoughts are quite distinct from difficult …

Compassion in the highest degree is the divinest form of religion.

[N]o mirror keeps its glances.