The genius of Shakespeare was an innate university.

Already with thee! tender is the night. . . But here there is no light. . .

Though the most beautiful creature were waiting for me at the end of a journey or a walk; though the carpet were of silk, the curtains of the morning clouds; the chairs and sofa stuffed with cygnet's down; the food manna, the wine beyond claret, the window opening on Winander Mere, I should not feel -or rather my happiness would not be so fine, as my solitude is sublime.

My mind has been the most discontented and restless one that ever was put into a body too small for it.

... for, by all the stars That tend thy bidding, I do think the bars That kept my spirit in are burst - that I Am sailing with thee through the dizzy sky! How beautiful thou art!

Give me books, French wine, fruit, fine weather and a little music played out of doors by somebody I do not know.

If something is not beautiful, it is probably not true.