He who shall hurt the little wren Shall never be beloved by men.

If Christianity was morality, Socrates would be the Saviour.

England! awake! awake! awake! Jerusalem thy sister calls! Why wilt thou sleep the sleep of death And close her from thy ancient walls?

If you, who are organised by Divine Providence for spiritual communion, refuse, and bury your talent in the earth, even though you should want natural bread, sorrow and desperation pursue you through life, and after death shame and confusion of face to eternity.

Can I see another's woe, and not be in sorrow too? Can I see another's grief, and not seek for kind relief?

To cast aside from Poetry, all that is not Inspiration

When the doors of perception are cleansed, men will see things as they truly are, infinite.