Full many a flower is born to blush unseen.

Oh Ireland my first and only love Where Christ and Caesar are hand in glove!

My eyes were often full of tears (I could not tell why) and at times a flood from my heart seemed to pour itself out.

I've put in so many enigmas and puzzles that it will keep the professors busy for centuries arguing over what I meant, and that's the only way of insuring one's immortality.

When I heard the word ''stream'' uttered with such a revolting primness, what I think of is urine and not the contemporary novel. And besides, it isn't new, it is far from the dernier cri. Shakespeare used it continually, much too much in my opinion, and there's Tristam Shandy, not to mention the "Agamemnon."

What's yours is mine and what's mine is my own.

The studious silence of the library ... Thought is the thought of thought. Tranquil brightness.