Stop and consider! life is but a day

Talking of Pleasure, this moment I was writing with one hand, and with the other holding to my Mouth a Nectarine - how good how fine. It went down all pulpy, slushy, oozy, all its delicious embonpoint melted down my throat like a large, beatified Strawberry.

Where are the songs of Spring? Aye, where are they? Think not of them; thou has thy music too.

I cannot exist without you - I am forgetful of every thing but seeing you again - my Life seems to stop there - I see no further. You have absorb'd me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving.

Praise or blame has but a momentary effect on the man whose love of beauty in the abstract makes him a severe critic on his own works.

The genius of Shakespeare was an innate university.

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