Can I see another's woe, And not be in sorrow too? Can I see another's grief, And not seek for kind relief? Can I see a falling tear, And not feel my sorrow's share? Can a father see his child Weep, nor be with sorrow filled? Can a mother sit and hear An infant groan, an infant fear? No, no! never can it be! Never, never can it be!

You throw the sand against the wind and the wind blows it back again.

Truth can never be told so as to be understood and not be believed.

First thought is best in Art, second in other matters.

God is the poetic genius in each of us.

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

I will not cease from mental fight Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand.