When you can discover where the fresh colors of the faded flower abide, or the music of the broken lyre, seek life among the dead. Such are the anxious and fearful contemplations of the common observer, though the popular religion often prevents him from confessing them even to himself.
Percy Bysshe ShelleyTrue love in this differs from gold and clay, that to divide is not to take away. Love is like understanding, that grows bright, gazing on many truths.
Percy Bysshe ShelleyTo hearts which near each other move From evening close to morning light,The night is good; because, my love,They never say good-night.
Percy Bysshe Shelley