My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!

Chameleons feed on light and air: Poets food is love and fame.

He wanders, like a day-appearing dream, Through the dim wildernesses of the mind; Through desert woods and tracts, which seem Like ocean, homeless, boundless, unconfined.

It were much better that a sentient being should never have existed, than that it should have existed only to endure unmitigated misery.

I think that the leaf of a tree, the meanest insect on which we trample, are in themselves arguments more conclusive than any which can be adduced that some vast intellect animates Infinity.

Contemporary criticism only represents the amount of ignorance genius has to contend with. . . . Time will reverse the judgement of the vulgar.

The thoughts which the word "God" suggests to the human mind are susceptible of as many variations as human minds themselves.