I never knew before, what such a love as you have made me feel, was; I did not believe in it; my Fancy was afraid of it, lest it should burn me up. But if you will fully love me, though there may be some fire, 'twill not be more than we can bear when moistened and bedewed with Pleasures.

There is a budding morrow in midnight.

I never can feel certain of any truth, but from a clear perception of its beauty.

The excellence of every Art is its intensity.

You cannot conceive how I ache to be with you: how I would die for one hour.

Nothing ever becomes real till it is experienced.

I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the heart's affections, and the truth of imagination.