The only enemy of innocence and beauty is time.

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

All hatred driven hence, The soul recovers radical innocence And learns at last that it is self-delighting, Self-appeasing, self-affrighting, And that its own sweet will is Heaven's will

How but in custom and in ceremony are innocence and beauty born?

Be secret and exult, Because of all things known That is most difficult.

Englishmen are babes in philosophy and so prefer faction-fighting to the labour of its unfamiliar thought.

For Death who takes what man would keep, Leaves what man would lose.