The sun, the moon and the stars would have disappeared long ago, had they happened to be within reach of read more

The sun, the moon and the stars would have disappeared long ago, had they happened to be within reach of predatory human hands.

The search for truth is in one way hard and in another way easy, for it is evident that no read more

The search for truth is in one way hard and in another way easy, for it is evident that no one can master it fully or miss it wholly. But each adds a little to our knowledge of nature, and from all the facts assembled there arises a certain grandeur.

Nature is a collective idea, and, though its essence exist in each individual of the species, can never in its read more

Nature is a collective idea, and, though its essence exist in each individual of the species, can never in its perfection inhabit a single object.

Life has loveliness to sell, all beautiful and splendid things, blue waves whitened on a cliff, soaring fire that sways read more

Life has loveliness to sell, all beautiful and splendid things, blue waves whitened on a cliff, soaring fire that sways and sings, and children's faces looking up, holding wonder like a cup.

Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer's day, listening to the read more

Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.

I drank the silence of God from a spring in the woods.

I drank the silence of God from a spring in the woods.

The coconut trees, lithe and graceful, crowd the beach like a minuet of slender elderly virgins adopting flippant poses.

The coconut trees, lithe and graceful, crowd the beach like a minuet of slender elderly virgins adopting flippant poses.

The grand show is eternal. It is always sunrise somewhere; the dew is never dried all at once; a shower read more

The grand show is eternal. It is always sunrise somewhere; the dew is never dried all at once; a shower is forever falling; vapor is ever rising. Eternal sunrise, eternal dawn and gloaming, on sea and continents and islands, each in its turn, as the round earth rolls.

Poetry is a rich, full-bodied whistle, cracked ice crunching in pails, the night that numbs the leaf, the duel of read more

Poetry is a rich, full-bodied whistle, cracked ice crunching in pails, the night that numbs the leaf, the duel of two nightingales, the sweet pea that has run wild, Creation's tears in shoulder blades.