Play out the game, act well your part, and if the gods have blundered, we will not.

We must not tamper with the organic motion of the soul.

It does not need that a poem should be long. Every word was once a poem.

Every time you wink the stars move.

The world - this shadow of the soul, or other me - lies wide around. Its attractions are the keys which unlock my thoughts and make me acquainted with myself. I run eagerly into this resounding tumult... So much only of life as I know by experience... The true scholar grudges every opportunity of action past by, as a loss of power.

A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines.

A good form strikes all eyes pleasantly, long before they have any science on the subject; and a beautiful face sets twenty hearts in palpitation, prior to all consideration of the mechanical proportions of the features and head.