A lonely impulse of delight

The light of lights looks always on the motive, not the deed, the shadow of shadows on the deed alone.

Sometimes my feet are tired and my hands are quiet, but there is no quiet in my heart.

When I clamber to the heights of sleep, Or when I grow excited with wine, suddenly I meet your face.

Does the imagination dwell the most Upon a woman won or a woman lost?

All empty souls tend to extreme opinion. It is only in those who have built up a rich world of memories and habits of thought that extreme opinions affront the sense of probability. Propositions, for instance, which set all the truth upon one side can only enter rich minds to dislocate and strain, if they can enter at all, and sooner or later the mind expels them by instinct.

Grant me an old man's frenzy, Myself must I remake Till I am Timon and Lear Or that William Blake Who beat upon the wall Till Truth obeyed his call.