That gracious thing, made up of tears and light.

Force yourself to reflect on what you read, paragraph by paragraph.

The fair breeze blew, The white foam flew, And the forrow followed free. We were the first to ever burst into the silent sea.

I have found words [in the Bible] for my inmost thoughts, songs for my joy, utterances for my hidden griefs, and pleadings for my shame and my feebleness.

A poet ought not to pick nature's pocket. Let him borrow, and so borrow as to repay by the very act of borrowing. Examine nature accurately, but write from recollection, and trust more to the imagination than the memory.

Conscience is the pulse of reason

Nothing great was ever achieved without enthusiasm. For what is enthusiasm but the oblivion and swallowing-up of self in an object dearer than self?