It is the greatest of crimes to depress true art and science.
He who desires, but acts not, breeds pestilence.
Can I see another's woe, and not be in sorrow too? Can I see another's grief, and not seek for kind relief?
How have you left the ancient love That bards of old enjoyed in you! The languid strings do scarcely move! The sound is forced, the notes are few!
The lust of the goat is the bounty of God.
He who kisses joy as it flies by will live in eternity's sunrise.