An author is like a baker; it is for him to make the sweets, and others to buy and enjoy them.

It flows through old hushed Egypt and its sands, Like some grave mighty thought threading a dream, And times and things, as in that vision, seem Keeping along it their eternal stands.

Where the mouth is sweet and the eyes intelligent, there is always the look of beauty, with a right heart.

The loveliest hair is nothing, if the wearer is incapable of a grace.

Oh for a seat in some poetic nook, Just hid with trees and sparkling with a brook!

There are two worlds: The world that we can measure with line and rule, and the world we feel with our hearts and imaginations.

Many birds and beasts are...as fit to go to Heaven as many human beings - people who talk of their seats there with as much confidence as if they had booked them at a box office.