What is there in thee, Moon! That thou should'st move My heart so potently?

Nothing is finer for the purposes of great productions than a very gradual ripening of the intellectual powers.

Tall oaks branch charmed by the earnest stars Dream and so dream all night without a stir.

His religion at best is an anxious wish,-like that of Rabelais, a great Perhaps.

How sad it is when a luxurious imagination is obliged in self defense to deaden its delicacy in vulgarity, and riot in things attainable that it may not have leisure to go mad after things that are not.

All writing is a form of prayer.

I wish you could invent some means to make me at all happy without you. Every hour I am more and more concentrated in you; everything else tastes like chaff in my mouth.