The imagination may be compared to Adam's dream-he awoke and found it truth.

The excellency of every art is its intensity, capable of making all disagreeable evaporate.

How does the poet speak to men with power, but by being still more a man than they

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd, Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone.

How sad it is when a luxurious imagination is obliged in self defense to deaden its delicacy in vulgarity, and riot in things attainable that it may not have leisure to go mad after things that are not.

Call the world if you please "the vale of soul-making." Then you will find out the use of the world.

Some say the world is a vale of tears, I say it is a place of soul-making.