The well of true wit is truth itself.
As we to the brutes, poets are to us.
A woman who is not quite a fool will forgive your being but a man, if you are surely that. . .
Not till the fire is dying in the grate, Look we for any kinship with the stars. Oh, wisdom never comes when it is gold, And the great price we paid for it full worth: We have it only when we are half earth. Little avails that coinage to the old!
Cynicism is intellectual dandyism.
Not till the fire is dying in the grate, Look we for any kinship with the stars.