That wonderful book, while it obtains admiration from the most fastidious critics, is loved by those who are too simple to admire it.

The knowledge of the theory of logic has no tendency whatever to make men good reasoners.

The merit of poetry, in its wildest forms, still consists in its truth-truth conveyed to the understanding, not directly by the words, but circuitously by means of imaginative associations, which serve as its conductors.

Sense can support herself handsomely in most countries on some eighteen pence a day; but for fantasy, planets and solar systems, will not suffice.

The highest eulogy which can be pronounced on the Revolution of 1688 is this that this was our last Revolution.

Our judgment ripens; our imagination decays. We cannot at once enjoy the flowers of the Spring of life and the fruits of its Autumn.

A few more years will destroy whatever yet remains of that magical potency which once belonged to the name of Byron.