I kiss you and kiss you, With arms around my own, Ah, how shall I miss you, When, dear, you have grown.

For to articulate sweet sounds together Is to work harder than all these, and yet Be thought an idler by the noisy set Of bankers, schoolmasters, and clergymen The martyrs call the world.

The visible world is no longer a reality and the unseen world no longer a dream.

Swift has sailed into his rest; Savage indignation there Cannot lacerate his breast Imitate him if you dare, World-besotted traveler; he Served human liberty.

I believe when I am in the mood that all nature is full of people whom we cannot see, and that some of these are ugly or grotesque, and some wicked or foolish, but very many beautiful beyond any one we have ever seen, and that these are not far away... and the simple of all times and the wise men of ancient times have seen them and even spoken to them.

By logic and reason we die hourly; by imagination we live.

I think you can leave the arts, superior or inferior, to the conscience of mankind.