The passion for setting people right is in itself an afflictive disease.

As for butterflies, I can hardly conceive of one's attending upon you; but to question the congruence of the complement is vain, if it exists.

Not till the poets among us can be "literalists of the imagination"-above insolence and triviality and can present for inspection, "imaginary gardens with real toads in them." shall we have it.

Your thorns are the best part of you.

In a poem the excitement has to maintain itself. I am governed by the pull of the sentence as the pull of a fabric is governed by gravity.

Hindered characters / seldom have mothers / in Irish stories, but they all have grandmothers.

The mind is an enchanting thing.