The feel of not to feel it, When there is none to heal it Nor numbed sense to steel it.

The excellence of every Art is its intensity.

I would sooner fail than not be among the greatest.

I love your hills and I love your dales, And I love your flocks a-bleating; but oh, on the heather to lie together, With both our hearts a-beating!

My love is selfish. I cannot breathe without you.

Failure is in a sense the highway to success, as each discovery of what is false leads us to seek earnestly after what is true.

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.