Oh that the desert were my dwelling-place, With one fair spirit for my minister

Yet smelt roast meat, beheld a huge fire shine, And cooks in motion with their clean arms bared.

I have a great mind to believe in Christianity for the mere pleasure of fancying I may be damned.

Constancy... that small change of love, which people exact so rigidly, receive in such counterfeit coin, and repay in baser metal.

You should have a softer pillow than my heart.

Tis the perception of the beautiful, A fine extension of the faculties, Platonic, universal, wonderful, Drawn from the stars, and filtered through the skies, Without which life would be extremely dull

And what is writ is writ - / Would it were worthier!