I cannot be content with less than heaven.
Poets are all who love, who feel great truths, And tell them; and the truth of truths is love.
O, there is naught on earth worth being known but God and our own souls!
Obey thy genius, for a minister it is unto the throne of fate. Draw to thy soul, and centralize the rays which are around of the Divinity.
Love spends his all, and still hath store.
If all were rich, gold would be penniless.