I am in that temper that if I were under water I would scarcely kick to come to the top.

Or thou might'st better listen to the wind, Whose language is to thee a barren noise, Though it blows legend-laden through the trees.

I would jump down Etna for any public good - but I hate a mawkish popularity.

I am sailing with thee through the dizzy sky! How beautiful thou art!

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

Philosophy will clip an angel's wings.

Wine is only sweet to happy men.