You know, my friends, with what a brave carouse I made a Second Marriage in my house; favored old barren reason from my bed, and took the daughter of the vine to spouse.

I can’t reveal the mystery to either saint or sinner; I can’t state at length what I’ve said curtly; I achieve an altered state that I can’t explain; I have a secret that I cannot share.

Heaven but the vision of fulfilled desire, and Hell the shadow from a soul on fire.

Hearts are like tapers, which at beauteous eyes Kindle a flame of love that never dies; And beauty is a flame, where hearts, like moths, Offer themselves a burning sacrifice.

To be free of belief and unbelief is my religion.

The rose that once has bloomed forever dies.

Alas, that Spring should vanish with the Rose! That Youths sweet-scented Manuscript should close!