I love your hills and I love your dales, And I love your flocks a-bleating; but oh, on the heather to lie together, With both our hearts a-beating!
We read fine things but never feel them to the full until we have gone the same steps as the author.
A thing of beauty is a joy forever: its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness.
I have so much of you in my heart.
Land and sea, weakness and decline are great separators, but death is the great divorcer for ever.
Turn the key deftly in the oiled wards, And seal the hushed Casket of my Soul.
The excellence of every art is its intensity, capable of making all disagreeables evaporate, from their being in close relationship with beauty and truth.
Many have original minds who do not think it – they are led away by custom!
I am convinced more and more day by day that fine writing is next to fine doing, the top thing in the world.
Neither poetry, nor ambition, nor love have any alertness of countenance as they pass by me.
I don’t need the stars in the night I found my treasure All I need is you by my side so shine forever.
We have woven a web, you and I, attached to this world but a separate world of our own invention.
My mind has been the most discontented and restless one that ever was put into a body too small for it.
But the rose leaves herself upon the brier, For winds to kiss and grateful bees to feed.
My imagination is a monastery and I am its monk.
I would sooner fail than not be among the greatest.
Like a mermaid in sea-weed, she dreams awake, trembling in her soft and chilly nest.
I think we may class the lawyer in the natural history of monsters.
I wish I was either in your arms full of faith, or that a Thunder bolt would strike me.
O for a life of Sensations rather than of Thoughts!