Sudden a thought came like a full-blown rose, Flushing his brow.

I have met with women whom I really think would like to be married to a Poem and to be given away by a Novel.

That which is creative must create itself.

So rainbow-sided, touch'd with miseries, She seem'd, at once, some penanced lady elf, Some demon's mistress, or the demon's self.

I would sooner fail than not be among the greatest.

But let me see thee stoop from heaven on wings That fill the sky with silver glitterings!

I have two luxuries to brood over in my walks, your loveliness and the hour of my death. O that I could have possession of them both in the same minute.