Odor of blood when Christ was slain Made all Platonic tolerance vain And vain all Doric discipline.

The innocent and the beautiful have no enemy but time.

The soul of man is of the imperishable substance of the stars!

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, the blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere the ceremony of innocence is drowned.

I pray-for fashion's word is out And prayer comes round again- That I may seem, though I die old, A foolish, passionate man.

People who lean on logic and philosophy and rational exposition end by starving the best part of the mind.

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