Ralph Waldo Emerson Quote

Four seasons fill the measure of the year; there are four seasons in the mind of man

The roaring of the wind is my wife and the stars through the window pane are my children

The poetry of the earth is never dead

The soul is placed in the body like a rough diamond, and must be polished, or the luster of it will never appear.

Time, which antiquates antiquities, and hath an art to make dust of all things, hath yet spared these minor monuments.

The world is too much with us; late and soon,