No sooner had I stepp'd into these pleasures Than I began to think of rhymes and measures: The air that floated by me seem'd to say 'Write! thou wilt never have a better day.

Nothing ever becomes real till it is experienced.

Real are the dreams of Gods, and smoothly pass Their pleasures in a long immortal dream.

Do you not see how necessary a world of pains and troubles is to school an intelligence and make it a soul?

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.

The Public - a thing I cannot help looking upon as an enemy, and which I cannot address without feelings of hostility.

My chest of books divide amongst my friends.