If Galileo had said in verse that the world moved, the inquisition might have let him alone.

That man's silence is wonderful to listen to.

To dwellers in a wood, almost every species of tree has its voice as well as its feature.

When yellow lights struggle with blue shades in hairlike lines.

There are accents in the eye which are not on the tongue, and more tales come from pale lips than can enter an ear. It is both the grandeur and the pain of the remoter moods that they avoid the pathway of sound.

A lover without indiscretion is no lover at all.

Her affection for him was now the breath and life of Tess's being; it enveloped her as a photosphere, irradiated her into forgetfulness of her past sorrows, keeping back the gloomy spectres that would persist in their attempts to touch her—doubt, fear, moodiness, care, shame. She knew that they were waiting like wolves just outside the circumscribing light, but she had long spells of power to keep them in hungry subjection there.