I wish I had the gift of making rhymes, for methinks there is poetry in my head and heart since I have been in love with you.

Mountains are earth's undecaying monuments.

Sleeping or waking, we hear not the airy footsteps of the strange things that almost happen.

What, in the name of common-sense, had I to do with any better society than I had always lived in?

Romance and poetry, ivy, lichens and wallflowers need ruin to make them grow.

In the depths of every heart there is a tomb and a dungeon, though the lights, the music, and the revelry above may cause us to forget their existence.

What is there so ponderous in evil, that a thumb's bigness of it should outweigh the mass of things not evil, which were heaped into the other scale!