You speak of Lord Byron and me; there is this great difference between us. He describes what he sees I describe what I imagine. Mine is the hardest task.

The only means of strengthening one's intellect is to make up one's mind about nothing, to let the mind be a thoroughfare for all thoughts.

With a great poet the sense of Beauty overcomes every other consideration, or rather obliterates all consideration.

Whatever the imagination seizes as Beauty must be truth -whether it existed before or not

She hurried at his words, beset with fears, For there were sleeping dragons all around.

Don't be discouraged by a failure. It can be a positive experience.

I see a lily on thy brow, With anguish moist and fever dew; And on thy cheek a fading rose Fast withereth too.