Too many things are occurring for even a big heart to hold.

A mermaid found a swimming lad, Picked him up for her own, Pressed her body to his body, Laughed; and plunging down Forgot in cruel happiness That even lovers drown.

How can the arts overcome the slow dying of men's hearts that we call progress ?

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

There is no deformity But saves us from a dream.

It is one of the great troubles of life that we cannot have any unmixed emotions. There is always something in our enemy that we like, and something in our sweetheart that we dislike.

Because I helped to wind the clock, I come to hear it strike.