It was the kind of winter day that makes you forget that the weather was ever any different, and you feel like it has been winter all the way back to Adam.

The mercy of the world is time. Time does not stop for love, but it does not stop for death and grief, either. After death and grief that (it seems) ought to have stopped the world, the world goes on. More things happen. And some of the things that happen are good.

The Satisfactions of the Mad Farmer...the quiet in the woods of a summer morning, the voice of a pewee passing through it like a tight silver wire; ...

Living right on called for nothing out of the ordinary. We made no changes. We only accepted the changes as they came.

Life is a series of hellos and goodbyes. This... is goodbye. But not our last hello.

See it?" ... "Yeah." ... "How in the world did you see that in the first place?" "Don't know." "It's hard to make out." "Give it about ten minutes..." So we waited. Trying not to look at it so much that it lost all meaning. Like a word you say over and over until you're only hearing what it sounds like and you've forgotten what it means.

If you're riding a dead horse… dismount.

We cannot change our past. We can not change the fact that people act in a certain way. We can not change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude.

It is not well to make great changes in old age.

As every season seems best to us in its turn, so the coming in of spring is like the creation of Cosmos out of Chaos...

The innocent brightness of a new-born Day Is lovely yet; The Clouds that gather round the setting sun Do take a sober colouring from an eye That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality...

I was blaspheming my luck in a way that made my breath smell of brimstone.