As soon seek roses in December, ice in June, Hope constancy in wind, or corn in chaff Believe a woman or an epitaph Or any other thing that’s false Before you trust in critics.

I do not believe in any religion, I will have nothing to do with immortality. We are miserable enough in this life without speculating upon another.

Let joy be unconfined.

Have not all past human beings parted, And must not all the present, one day part?

Ye stars! which are the poetry of heaven!

I slept and dreamt that life was beauty; I woke and found that life was duty.

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.