Those who love not their fellow-beings live unfruitful lives, and prepare for their old age a miserable grave.
Nothing of him that doth fade But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange.
And priests dare babble of a God of peace, Even whilst their hands are red with guiltless blood, Murdering the while, uprooting every germ Of truth, exterminating, spoiling all, Making the earth a slaughter – house!
Design must be proved before a designer can be inferred.
Whatever strengthens and purifies the affections, enlarges the imagination, and adds spirit to sense, is useful.
Man’s yesterday may never be like his morrow; Nought may endure but Mutability.
The odious and disgusting aristocracy of wealth is built upon the ruins of all that is good in chivalry or republicanism; and luxury is the forerunner of a barbarism scarcely capable of cure.
This lake exceeds anything I ever beheld in beauty.
Peter was dull; he was at first Dull; – Oh, so dull – so very dull! Whether he talked, wrote, or rehearsed – Still with his dulness was he cursed – Dull -beyond all conception – dull.
Of Planets, struggling fierce towards heaven’s free wilderness.
Duty and dereliction guide thee back to solitude.
The Pilgrim of Eternity, whose fame Over his living head like heaven is bent, An early but enduring monument, Came, veiling all the lightnings of his song In sorrow.
All love is sweet, given or received...
We look before and after, And pine for what is not; Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
Poetry is the record of the best and happiest moments of the happiest and best minds.
Revenge is the naked idol of the worship of a semi-barbarous age.
Concerning God, freewill and destiny: Of all that earth has been or yet may be, all that vain men imagine or believe, or hope can paint or suffering may achieve, we descanted.
Obscenity, which is ever blasphemy against the divine beauty in life, is a monster for which the corruption of society forever brings forth new food, which it devours in secret.
I fall upon the thorns of life...
The cloud of mind is discharging its collected lightning.