Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.

To be perfectly original one should think much and read little, and this is impossible, for one must have read before one has learnt to think.

When falls the Coliseum, Rome shall fall; And when Rome falls--the World.

This sort of adoration of the real is but a heightening of the beau ideal.

For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed; And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill, And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!

Like other parties of the kind, it was first silent, then talky, then argumentative, then disputatious, then unintelligible, then altogether, then inarticulate, and then drunk. When we had reached the last step of this glorious ladder, it was difficult to get down again without stumbling.

I had a dream, which was not at all a dream.