There is a pleasure in poetic pains / Which only poets know.
Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, but trust Him for His grace; Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face.
My soul is sick with every day's report of wrong and outrage with which earth is filled.
Elegant as simplicity, and warm As ecstasy.
Nature is a good name for an effect whose cause is God.
A fretful temper will divide the closest knot that may be tied, by ceaseless sharp corrosion; a temper passionate and fierce may suddenly your joys disperse at one immense explosion.