March to the beat of your own drummer.

I would give all the wealth of the world, and all the deeds of all the heroes, for one true vision.

I have, as it were, my own sun and moon and stars, and a little world all to myself.

Between whom there is hearty truth there is love.

What other words, we may almost ask, are memorable and worthy to be repeated than those which love has inspired? It is wonderful that they were ever uttered. They are few and rare indeed, but, like a strain of music, they are incessantly repeated and modulated by the memory. All other words crumble off with the stucco which overlies the heart. We should not dare to repeat these now aloud. We are not competent to hear them at all times.

Decay and disease are often beautiful, like the pearly tear of the shellfish and the hectic glow of consumption.

I say beware of all enterprises that require new clothes, and not rather a new wearer of clothes.