The moon had the old moon in her arms.

It is a pleasure to a real lover of Nature to give winter all the glory he can, for summer will make its own way, and speak its own praises.

I never saw daffodils so beautiful. They grew among the mossy stones about and above them; some rested their heads upon these stones, as on a pillow, for weariness.

I found a strawberry blossom in a rock. I uprooted it rashly and felt as if I had been committing an outrage, so I planted it again.

I've been a dweller on the plains, have sighed when summer days were gone; No more I'll sigh; for winter here Hath gladsome gardens of his own.

An injudicious and malignant enemy often serves the cause he means to injure; but a feeble friend never attains that end.

The moonlight lay upon the hills like snow.

Scotland is the country above all others that I have seen, in which a man of imagination may carve out his own pleasures; there are so many inhabited solitudes.

I think one of the dullest things in the world is a letter filled with apologies for not writing sooner.

Every question was like the snapping of a little thread about my heart.

Upon the highest ridge of that round hill covered with planted oaks, the shafts of the trees show in the light like the columns of a ruin.

Instead of bracing yourself for the perils of the unknown, embrace the joy that is here, in your present moment.

I just don't want them to change me, if I'm going to die I still want to be me.

Part of the process in healing from trauma, like recovering from addiction, is developing connection and support with others.

I became good at pretending. I became so good that after a while the lines blurred between my truth and fiction. And sometimes, when I did a really good job of pretending, I even fooled myself.

Anyone who teaches me deserves my respect, honoring and attention.

The novel is born not of the theoretical spirit but of the spirit of humor.

From harmony, from heavenly harmony, This universal frame began: From harmony to harmony Through all the compass of the notes it ran, The diapason closing full in Man.

I remember only what interests me.

It isn't the thing you do, dear, it's the thing you leave undone which gives you a bit of heartache at the setting at the setting of the sun.

You know me, but you don't know me. I give you what I want to give you. I relate to villains like that - but I'm not out to destroy the world.