So the lover must struggle for words.

No poet, no artist of any art, has his complete meaning alone.

And they write innumerable books; being too vain and distracted for silence: seeking every one after his own elevation, and dodging his emptiness.

There is no such thing as a lost cause, because there is no such thing as a gained cause

There will be time to murder and create.

The majority of poems one outgrows and outlives, as one outgrows and outlives the majority of human passions.

Death has a hundred hands and walks by a thousand ways.