I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the Heart’s affections and the truth of the Imagination – What the imagination seizes as Beauty must be truth – whether it existed before or not – for I have the same Idea of all our Passions as of Love they are all in their sublime, creative of essential Beauty . . .

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

And when thou art weary I'll find thee a bed, Of mosses and flowers to pillow thy head.

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.

When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face, Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, And think that I may never live to trace Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance.

A hope beyond the shadow of a dream.