Nor do we merely feel these essences for one short hour no, even as these trees that whisper round a temple become soon dear as the temples self, so does the moon, the passion posey, glories infinite, Haunt us till they become a cheering light unto our souls and bound to us so fast, that wheather there be shine, or gloom o'er cast, They always must be with us, or we die.

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.

... for, by all the stars That tend thy bidding, I do think the bars That kept my spirit in are burst - that I Am sailing with thee through the dizzy sky! How beautiful thou art!

If something is not beautiful, it is probably not true.

Beauty is truth, truth beauty

--then on the shore Of the wide world I stand alone, and think Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.