The analytical power should not be confounded with simple ingenuity; for while the analyst is necessarily ingenious, the ingenious man is often remarkably incapable of analysis.

That the play is the tragedy, “Man,” And its hero, the Conqueror Worm.

In the marginalia ... we talk only to ourselves; we therefore talk freshly - boldly - originally - with abandonment - without conceit.

I have, indeed, no abhorrence of danger, except in its absolute effect - in terror.

Beauty is the sole legitimate province of the poem.

It is the nature of truth in general, as of some ores in particular, to be richest when most superficial.

But evil things, in robes of sorrow, Assailed the monarch's high estate; (Ah, let us mourn, for never morrow Shall dawn upon him desolate!) And round about his home the glory That blushed and bloomed, Is but a dim-remembered story Of the old time entombed.