Religion! but for thee, prolific fiend, Who peoplest earth with demons, hell with men, And heaven with slaves!

Poetry strengthens that faculty which is the organ of the moral nature of man, in the same manner as exercise strengthens a limb.

But I am chained to Time, and cannot thence depart!

It is impossible that had Buonaparte descended from a race of vegetable feeders that he could have had either the inclination or the power to ascend the throne of the Bourbons.

Power, like a desolating pestilence, Pollutes whate'er it touches; and obedience, Bane of all genius, virtue, freedom, truth, Makes slaves of men, and of the human frame A mechanized automaton.

A dream has power to poison sleep.

The jealous keys of truth's eternal doors.