Whenever nature leaves a hole in a person's mind, she generally plasters it over with a thick coat of self-conceit.

From dust thou art to dust returneth, was not spoken of the soul.

There's nothing fair nor beautiful, but takes Something from thee, that makes it beautiful.

Every great poem is in itself limited by necessity, but in its suggestions unlimited and infinite.

You would attain to the divine perfection.

When you ask one friend to dine, Give him your best wine! When you ask two, The second best will do!

Very hot and still the air was, Very smooth the gliding river, Motionless the sleeping shadows.