Ralph Waldo Emerson

Thought is the blossom; language the bud; action the fruit behind it.

We are reformers in the spring and summer, but in autumn we stand by the old. Reformers in the morning, and conservers at night.

The man who can make hard things easy is the educator.

We are wiser than we know.

Beauty without expression is boring.

Earth laughs in flowers.

The beginning of an acquaintance whether with persons or things is to get a definite outline of our ignorance.

Goodness is the only investment which never fails.

PATIENCE YOU MUST HAVE my young padawan.

We find delight in the beauty and happiness of children that makes the heart too big for the body.

The religion that is afraid of science dishonors God and commits suicide.

Some men do as much begrudge others a good name, as they want one themselves: and perhaps that is the reason of it.

I have been breaking silence these twenty-three years and have hardly made a rent in it.

Dictionaries are like watches; the worst is better than none, and the best cannot be expected to be quite true.

The fickleness of the women I love is only equalled by the infernal constancy of the women who love me.

Be ever on your guard what you say of anybody and to whom.

Haven’t you learned yet that I put something more than whisky into my speeches.

I would advise you Sir, to study algebra, if you are not already an adept in it: your head would be less muddy, and you will leave off tormenting your neighbors about paper and packthread, while we all live together in a world that is bursting with sin and sorrow.

I was the same old me. Just like the Moon yesterday. But because of all the other factors that came to play, the darkness, the brightness, the blood red color. They all were a reflection, a projection due to the perfect set of circumstances. The Moon was still the Moon. But it was still labeled the Super Blue Blood Moon, Just so we can have some understanding, but, again I’ll state, the Moon was still just the Moon, just like I was still just me. Whatever you project on me, and I reflect back, doesn’t then make me become a new person, it’s just a reflection of your projection. I am still just me.

What is the imagination? Only an arm or weapon of the interior energy; only the precursor of the reason.

There are few things that we so unwillingly give up, even in advanced age, as the supposition that we still have the power of ingratiating ourselves with the fair sex.