These are the gardens of the Desert, these/ the unshorn fields, boundless and beautiful | The Prairies - William Bryant |
Is sin, then... like sorrow, merely an element of human education, through which we struggle to a hi | The Marble Faun - Naathaaniel Hawthorne |
Look not too long in the face of the fire, O man! There is a wisdom that is woe; but there is a woe | Billy Budd - Herman Melville |
Every real man must be a nonconformist | Self-Reliance - Ralph Waldo Emerson |
Standing on the bare ground – my head bathed by the blithe air, and uplifted into infinite space, | Nature - Ralph Waldo Emerson |
I become a transparent eyeball; I am nothing; I see all; the currents of the Universal Being circula | The Transparent Eye-Ball - Ralph Waldo Emerson |
Every natural process is a version of a moral sentence | Nature - Ralph Waldo Emerson |
The moral law lies at the centre of nature | Nature - Ralph Waldo Emerson |
’We have listened too long to the courtly muses of Europe | The American Scholar - Ralph Waldo Emerson |
I got up early and bathed in the pond; that was a religious exercise, and one of the best things whi | The Over-Soul - Ralph Waldo Emerson |
However mean your life is, meet it and live it. Do not shun it and call it hard names. It is not so | Walden - Henry David Thoreau |
Only that day dawns to which we are awake | Walden - Henry David Thoreau |
I celebrate myself, and sing myself, And what I assume you shall assume, For every atom belonging | Song of Myself - Walt Whitman |
I am the poet of the Body, and I am the poet of the Soul | Song of Myself - Walt Whitman |
I believe in you my soul, the other I am must not abase itself to you, And you must not be abas | Song of Myself - Walt Whitman |
I hasten to inform him or her it is just as lucky to die, / and I know it./ I pass death with the dy | Leaves of Grass - Walt Whitman |
Success is counted sweetest by those who ne’er succeed | Success is counted sweetest (112) - Emily Dickinson |
my letter to the World/That never wrote to Me | This Is My Letter To The World - Emily Dickinson |
The Bustle in a House The Morning after Death Is solemnest of industries Enacted upon Earth – T | The Bustle in a House (1108) - Emily Dickinson |
And make my soul Thy holy spool to be | Edward Taylor’s “Huswifery” |
Temperance, Silence, Order, Resolution, Frugality, Industry | Benjamin Franklin |
There are times that try men’s souls | Thomas Paine - The American Crisis |
Conscious artistry and treatment of the subject is the key | Henry James's“The Art of Fiction” |
"Bad" novels and "good" novels are a matter of taste, not morality or choice of subject matter. | Henry James's“The Art of Fiction” |
The only reason for the existence of a novel is that it does attempt to represent life | Henry James's“The Art of Fiction” |