There are few persons, even among the calmest thinkers, who have not occasionally been startled into a vague yet thrilling half credence in the supernatural, by coincidences of so seemingly marvellous a character that, as mere coincidences, the intellect has been unable to receive them.

If I could dwell where Israfel hath dwelt and he where I he might not sing so wildly well a mortal melody while a bolder note then this might swell from my lyre in the sky.

I could have clasped the red walls to my bosom as a garment of eternal peace. "Death," I said, "any death but that of the pit!" Fool! might I have not known that into the pit it was the object of the burning iron to urge me?

All suffering originates from craving, from attachment, from desire.

Marking a book is literally an experience of your differences or agreements with the author. It is the highest respect you can pay him.

The death of a beautiful woman, is unquestionably the most poetical topic in the world.

All religion, my friend, is simply evolved out of fraud, fear, greed, imagination, and poetry.