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

I want a brighter word than bright

The world is too brutal for me-I am glad there is such a thing as the grave-I am sure I shall never have any rest till I get there.

I Cannot Exist Without You. I Am Forgetful Of Everything But Seeing You Again.

There is an awful warmth about my heart like a load of immortality.

There is an old saying "well begun is half done"-'tis a bad one. I would use instead-Not begun at all 'til half done.

I almost wish we were butterflies and liv'd but three summer days - three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain.