Is there another Life? Shall I awake and find all this a dream? There must be we cannot be created for this sort of suffering.

The genius of poetry must work out its own salvation in a man; it cannot be matured by law and precept, but by sensation and watchfulness in itself. That which is creative must create itself - In Endymion, I leaped headlong into the sea, and thereby have become better acquainted with the soundings, the quicksands, and the rocks, than if I had stayed upon the green shore, and piped a silly pipe, and took tea and comfortable sdvice.

Open afresh your rounds of starry folds, Ye ardent Marigolds.

His old right hand lay nerveless, listless, dead, Unsceptred; and his realmless eyes were closed.

Nothing ever becomes real till experienced – even a proverb is no proverb until your life has illustrated it

I could be martyred for my religion. Love is my religion and I could die for that. I could die for you.

Where are the songs of Spring? Aye, where are they? Think not of them; thou has thy music too.