In many walks of life, a conscience is a more expensive encumbrance than a wife or a carriage.

Out of the ruined lodge and forgotten mansion, bowers that are trodden under foot, and pleasure-houses that are dust, the poet calls up a palingenesis.

Even imperfection itself may have its ideal or perfect state.

Reserve is the truest expression of respect towards those who are its objects.

I stood checked for a moment - awe, not fear, fell upon me - and whist I stood, a solemn wind began to blow, the most mournful that ever ear heard. Mournful! That is saying nothing. It was a wind that had swept the fields of mortality for a hundred centuries.

There is a necessity for a regulating discipline of exercise that, whilst evoking the human energies, will not suffer them to be wasted.

All that is literature seeks to communicate power