The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the windowpanes.

I do not know much about gods;but I think that the river is a strong brown god-sullen, untamed and intractable . . .

We do not quite say that the new is more valuable because it fits in; but its fitting in is a test of its value -- a test, it is true, which can only be slowly and cautiously applied, for we are none of us infallible judges of conformity.

There's a snowy egret with its yellow legs.

There is not a more repulsive spectacle than on old man who will not forsake the world, which has already forsaken him.

I had seen birth and death but had thought they were different.