In the deepest slumber-no! In delirium-no! In a swoon-no! In death-no! even in the grave all is not lost.

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

Many years ago, I contracted an intimacy with a Mr. William Legrand. He was of an ancient Huguenot family, and had once been wealthy; but a series of misfortunes had reduced him to want.

He must be theory-mad beyond redemption who ... shall ... persist in attempting to reconcile the obstinate oils and waters of Poetry and Truth.

Art is to look at not to criticize.

Fill with mingled cream and amber, I will drain that glass again. Such hilarious visions clamber Through the chamber of my brain — Quaintest thoughts — queerest fancies Come to life and fade away; What care I how time advances? I am drinking ale today.

I dread the events of the future, not in themselves but in their results.