Oh, the Germans classify, but the French arrange!.

I like trees because they seem more resigned to the way they have to live than other things do. I feel as if this tree knows everything I ever think of when I sit here. When I come back to it, I never have to remind it of anything; I begin just where I left off.

Oh, this is the joy of the rose;That it blows,And goes.

No one person knows much more about writing than another. I expect that when people think they know anything about it, then their case is hopeless.

If youth did not matter so much to itself it would never have the heart to go on

The dead might as well try to speak to the living as the old to the young.