Weary of myself, and sick of asking What I am, and what I ought to be, At this vessel's prow I stand, which bears me Forwards, forwards, o'er the starlit sea.

Poetry is simply the most beautiful, impressive, and widely effective mode of saying things.

Culture, the acquainting ourselves with the best that has been known and said in the world, and thus with the history of the human spirit.

The brave, impetuous heart yields everywhere to the subtle, contriving head.

And each day brings it's pretty dust, Our soon-choked souls to fll And we forget because we must, And not because we will.

Indeed there can be no more useful help for discovering what poetry belongs to the class of the truly excellent, and can therefore do us most good, than to have always in one's mind lines and expressions of the great masters, and to apply them as a touchstone to other poetry.

The pursuit of perfection, then, is the pursuit of sweetness and light.... He who works for sweetness and light united, works to make reason and the will of God prevail.