Above or Love, Hope, Hate or Fear, It lives all passionless and pure: An age shall fleet like earthly year; Its years in moments shall endure. Away, away, without a wing, O'er all, through all, its thought shall fly; A nameless and eternal thing, Forgetting what it was to die.

I cannot help thinking that the menace of Hell makes as many devils as the severe penal codes of inhuman humanity make villains.

My altars are the mountains and the ocean.

The devil hath not, in all his quiver's choice, An arrow for the heart like a sweet voice.

Happiness was born a twin.

He makes a solitude, and calls it - peace!

Lord of himself; that heritage of woe!