What is literature but the expression of moods by the vehicle of symbol and incident?

Land of Heart's Desire Where beauty has no ebb, decay no flood, But joy is wisdom, time an endless song.

Hearts are not had as a gift, But hearts are earned.

Love comes in at the eye.

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

For he would be thinking of love Till the stars had run away And the shadows eaten the moon.

There are no strangers here; Only friends you haven't yet met.