O Earth, O Earth, return! Arise from out the dewy grass; Night is worn; And the morn Rises from the slumbrous mass.

Sooner strangle an infant in its cradle than nurse unacted desires.

Pity would be no more, If we did not make somebody poor. Mercy no more could be, If all were happy as we.

One Power alone makes a Poet: Imagination. The Divine Vision.

Love seeketh not itself to please, nor for itself hath any care, but for another gives its ease, and builds a Heaven in Hell's despair.

Abstinence sows sand all over The ruddy limbs and flaming hair, But desire gratified Plants fruits of life and beauty there.

Celebrate your existence!