The fancy is indeed no other than a mode of memory emancipated from the order of time and space.
Samuel Taylor ColeridgeHow like herrings and onions our vices are in the morning after we have committed them.
Samuel Taylor ColeridgeHe holds him with his glittering eye, And listens like a three years' child.
Samuel Taylor ColeridgeWherever you find a sentence musically worded, of true rhythm and melody in the words, there is something deep and good in the meaning too.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge