Facts are not truths; they are not conclusions; they are not even premises, but in the nature and parts of premises.

Oh Sleep! it is a gentle thing, beloved from pole to pole, to Mary Queen the praise be given! She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven, that slid into my soul.

There is one art of which people should be masters - the art of reflection.

The fancy is indeed no other than a mode of memory emancipated from the order of time and space.

Poetry has been to me its own exceeding great reward; it has given me the habit of wishing to discover the good and beautiful in all that meets and surrounds me.

When a man mistakes his thoughts for persons and things, he is mad.

Where virtue is, sensibility is the ornament and becoming attire of virtue. On certain occasions it may almost be said to become virtue. But sensibility and all the amiable qualities may likewise become, and too often have become, the panders of vice and the instruments of seduction.