The blessed spirits must be sought within the self which is common to all

How can we know the dancer from the dance?

Locke sank into a swoon; The Garden died; God took the spinning-jenny Out of his side.

Oh, Love is the crooked thing, there is nobody wise enough to find out all that is in it, for he will be thinking about love til the stars run away and the shadows eaten the moon.

I have read somewhere that in the Emperor's palace at Byzantium was a tree made of gold and silver, and artificial birds that sang.

While they danced they came over them the weariness with the world, the melancholy, the pity one for the other, which is the exultation of love.

It is most important that we should keep in this country a certain leisured class. I am of the opinion of the ancient Jewish book which says there is no wisdom without leisure.