The innocent and the beautiful have no enemy but time.

Grant me an old man's frenzy, Myself must I remake Till I am Timon and Lear Or that William Blake Who beat upon the wall Till Truth obeyed his call.

When we have blamed the wind we can blame love.

Before me floats an image, man or shade, / Shade more than man, more image than a shade.

That toil of growing up; The ignominy of boyhood; the distress Of boyhood changing into man; The unfinished man and his pain.

When two close kindred meet What better than call a dance?.

Nor dread nor hope attend a dying animal; a man awaits his end dreading and hoping all.