Ah, broken is the golden bowl! the spirit flown forever! Let the bell toll!-a saintly soul floats on the Stygian river; And, Guy de Vere, hast thou no tear?-weep now or nevermore!

In reading some books we occupy ourselves chiefly with the thoughts of the author; in perusing others, exclusively with our own.

To see distinctly the machinery--the wheels and pinions--of any work of Art is, unquestionably, of itself, a pleasure, but one which we are able to enjoy only just in proportion as we do not enjoy the legitimate effect designed by the artist.

I heed not that my earthly lot Hath - little of Earth in it - That years of love have been forgot In the hatred of a minute: - I mourn not that the desolate Are happier, sweet, than I, But that you sorrow for my fate Who am a passer by.

The pioneers and missionaries of religion have been the real cause of more trouble and war than all other classes of mankind.

To elevate the soul, poetry is necessary.

To vilify a great man is the readiest way in which a little man can himself attain greatness.