A lonely impulse of delight

Come away, O human child: To the waters and the wild with a fairy, hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

What is literature but the expression of moods by the vehicle of symbol and incident?

Fairies in Ireland are sometimes as big as we are, sometimes bigger, and sometimes, as I have been told, about three feet high.

All the wild-witches, those most notable ladies For all their broom-sticks and their tears, Their angry tears, are gone.

One should not lose one's temper unless one is certain of getting more and more angry to the end.

Ah, let us kiss each other's eyes,/And laugh our love away.