The good want power, but to weep barren tears. The powerful goodness want: worse need for them. The wise want love; and those who love want wisdom.

I love snow, snow, and all the forms of radiant frost.

The rich have become richer, and the poor have become poorer; and the vessel of the state is driven between the Scylla and Charybdis of anarchy and despotism.

The Pilgrim of Eternity, whose fame Over his living head like heaven is bent, An early but enduring monument, Came, veiling all the lightnings of his song In sorrow.

In a drama of the highest order there is little food for censure or hatred; it teaches rather self-knowledge and self-respect.

Ah! what a divine religion might be found out if charity were really made the principle of it instead of faith.

Just a tender sense of my own process, that holds something of my connection with the divine.