Once you attempt legislation upon religious grounds, you open the way for every kind of intolerance and religious persecution.

Much did I rage when young, Being by the world oppressed, But now with flattering tongue It speeds the parting guest.

Never shall a young man, Thrown into despair By those great honey-coloured Ramparts at your ear, Love you for yourself alone And not your yellow hair.

Things thought too long can be no longer thought, For beauty dies of beauty, worth of worth, And ancient lineaments are blotted out.

The pain others give passes away in their later kindness, but that of our own blunders, especially when they hurt our vanity, never passes away

Ecstasy is from the contemplation of things vaster than the individual and imperfectly seen perhaps, by all those that still live.

Time can but make her beauty over again.