For axioms in philosophy are not axioms until they are proved upon our pulses.
Of love, that fairest joys give most unrest.
I never was in love - yet the voice and the shape of a woman has haunted me these two days.
The poetry of earth is never dead When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, And hide I cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead.
I wish I was either in your arms full of faith, or that a Thunder bolt would strike me.
Philosophy will clip an angel's wings.