Simplicity, a delicate silence about oneself, increases their worth and makes one love those whom one admires.
... what is there over which the incomparable beauty of childhood would not triumph?
nature has not changed. The night is still unsullied, the stars still twinkle, and the wild thyme smells as sweetly now as it did then ... We may be afflicted and unhappy, but no one can take from us the sweet delight which is nature's gift to those who love her and her poetry.
The trade of authorship is a violent, and indestructible obsession.
Admiration and familiarity are strangers.
The marriage vow is an absurdity imposed by society.