What we ask of him is, that he should find out for us more than we can find out for ourselves... He must have the passion of a lover.

I had my dreams of Venice, but nothing that I had dreamed was as impossible as what I found.

Criticism is properly the rod of divination: a hazel switch for the discovery of buried treasure, not a birch twig for the castigation of offenders.

Night, a more perfect day.

He knew that the whole mystery of beauty can never be comprehended by the crowd, and that while clearness is a virtue of style, perfect explicitness is not a necessary virtue.

My soul is like this cloudy, flaming opal ring.

Here in a little lonely room I am master of earth and sea, And the planets come to me.