Books are not absolutely dead things, but do contain a potency of life in them....I know they are as lively and as vigorously productive as those fabulous dragon's teeth and being sown up and down, may chance to spring up armed men.

Lifted up so high I disdained subjection, and thought one step higher would set me highest.

Boast not of what thou would'st have done, but do.

Must I thus leave thee, Paradise?-thus leave Thee, native soil, these happy walks and shades?

Have hung My dank and dropping weeds To the stern god of sea.

Abash'd the Devil stood, And felt how awful goodness is.

Yet hold it more humane, more heav'nly, first, By winning words to conquer willing hearts, And make persuasion do the work of fear.