If you cannot imagine with the mind's eye much more than you can see with the mortal eye, you have a very poor imagination indeed.

To the eyes of a miser a guinea is more beautiful than the sun, and a bag worn with the use of money has more beautiful proportions than a vine filled with grapes.

I must create a system or be enslaved by another mans; I will not reason and compare: my business is to create.

The busy bee has no time for sorrow.

Drive your cart and plow over the bones of the dead.

But to go to school in a summer morn, O! It drives all joy away; Under a cruel eye outworn, The little ones spend the day In sighing and dismay.

The spirits of the air live on the smells Of fruit; and joy, with pinions light, roves round The gardens, or sits singing in the trees.