I was never kinder to the old man than during the whole week before I killed him.

Men have called me mad; but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence.

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you"— here I opened wide the door; — Darkness there, and nothing more.

Were I called on to define, very briefly, the term Art, I should call it 'the reproduction of what the Senses perceive in Nature through the veil of the soul.' The mere imitation, however accurate, of what is in Nature, entitles no man to the sacred name of 'Artist.'

The plots of God are perfect. The Universe is a plot of God.

That is another of your odd notions," said the Prefect, who had a fashion of calling every thing "odd" that was beyond his comprehension, and thus lived amid an absolute legion of "oddities.

The greater amount of truth is impulsively uttered; thus the greater amount is spoken, not written.