Curiosity kills itself; and love is only curiosity, as is proved by its end.

In the desert a fountain is springing, In the wide waste there still is a tree, And a bird in the solitude singing, Which speaks to my spirit of thee

Go let thy less than woman's hand Assume the distaff not the brand.

I am always most religious upon a sunshiny day.

I should be very willing to redress men wrongs, and rather check than punish crimes, had not Cervantes, in that all too true tale of Quixote, shown how all such efforts fail.

In England the only homage which they pay to Virtue - is hypocrisy.

That prose is a verse, and verse is a prose; convincing all, by demonstrating plain – poetic souls delight in prose insane