The Best Fluffy Pancakes recipe you will fall in love with. Full of tips and tricks to help you make the best pancakes.

Category Ralph Waldo Emerson

Mithridates

I cannot spare water or wine, Tobacco-leaf, or poppy, or rose; From the earth-poles to the Line, All between that works or grows, Every thing is kin of mine. Give me agates for my meat, Give me cantharids to eat,…

Alphonso Of Castile

I Alphonso live and learn, Seeing nature go astern. Things deteriorate in kind, Lemons run to leaves and rind, Meagre crop of figs and limes, Shorter days and harder times. Flowering April cools and dies In the insufficient skies; Imps…

The World-Soul

  Thanks to the morning light,   Thanks to the foaming sea,To the uplands of New Hampshire,   To the green-haired forest free;Thanks to each man of courage,   To the maids of holy mind,To the boy with his games undaunted   Who never looks behind. Cities of proud…

Uriel

It fell in the ancient periods    Which the brooding soul surveys, Or ever the wild Time coined itself    Into calendar months and days. This was the lapse of Uriel, Which in Paradise befell. Once, among the Pleiads walking,…

The Visit

Askest “How long thou shall stay?” Devastator of the day! Know, each substance and relation Thorough nature’s operation, Hath its unit, bound, and metre, And every new compound Is some product and repeater, Product of the early found. But the…

To Rhea

Thee, dear friend, a brother soothes, Not with flatteries, but truths, Which tarnish not, but purify To light which dims the morning’s eye. I have come from the spring-woods, From the fragrant solitudes; Listen what the poplar tree, And murmuring…

The Problem

I like a church; I like a cowl;I love a prophet of the soul;and on my heart monastic aislesFall like sweet strains, or pensive smiles;Yet not for all his faith can seeWould I that cowled churchman be. Why should the…

Each and All

Little thinks, in the field, yon red-cloaked clown,Of thee from the hill-top looking down;The heifer that lows in the upland farm,Far-heard, lows not thine ear to charm;The sexton, tolling his bell at noon,Deems not that great NapoleonStops his horse, and…

The Sphinx

  The Sphinx is drowsy, The wings are furled; Her ear is heavy, She broods on the world. “Who’ll tell me my secret, The ages have kept?– I awaited the seer, While they slumbered and slept;– “The fate of the…