The brain can be easy to buy, but the heart never comes to market.

Here was a type of the true elder race, And one of Plutarch's men talked with us face to face.

Books are the bees which carry the quickening pollen from one to another mind.

It is mediocrity which makes laws and sets mantraps and spring-guns in the realm of free song, saying thus far shalt thou go and no further.

It may be glorious to write Thoughts that shall glad the two or three High souls, like those far stars that come in sight Once in a century.

A weed is no more than a flower in disguise, Which is seen through at once, if love give a man eyes.

Time is, after all, the greatest of poets; and the sons of Memory stand a better chance of being the heirs of Fame.