I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.

I had a little sorrow, Born of a little sin.

And must I then, indeed, Pain, live with you all through my life?-sharing my fire, my bed, Sharing-oh, worst of all things!-the same head?- And, when I feed myself, feeding you too?

Not Truth, but Faith it is that keeps the world alive.

The soul can split the sky in two and let the face of God shine through.

Beauty in all things-no, we cannot hope for that; but some place set apart for it.

Beauty is whatever gives joy.