Men are egotists, and not all tolerant of one man's selfhood; they do not always deem the amities elective.

The critic's first labor is the task of distinguishing between men, as history and their works display them, and the ideals which one and another have conspired to urge upon his acceptance.

Progress comes by experiment, and this from ennui that leads to voyages, wars, revolutions, and plainly to change in the arts of expression; that cries out to the imagination, and is the nurse of the invention whereof we term necessity the mother.

Poetry is an art, and chief of the fine art; the easiest to dabble in, the hardest in which to reach true excellence.

The poet who does not revere his art, and believe in its sovereignty, is not born to wear the purple.

Do your heart and head keep pace? When does hoary Love expire, When do frosts put out the fire? Can its embers burn below All that chill December snow?

Faith and joy are the ascensive forces of song.