Four seasons fill the measure of the year; there are four seasons in the minds of men.
You are always new, the last of your kisses was ever the sweetest.
A moment's thought is passion's passing knell.
Let us open our leaves like a flower, and be passive and receptive.
one of the most mysterious of semi-speculations is, one would suppose, that of one Mind's imagining into another
My mind has been the most discontented and restless one that ever was put into a body too small for it.