I am already kindly disposed towards you. My friendship it is not in my power to give: this is a gift which no man can make, it is not in our own power: a sound and healthy friendship is the growth of time and circumstance, it will spring up and thrive like a wildflower when these favour, and when they do not, it is in vain to look for it.

The Poet binds together by passion and knowledge the vast empire of human society.

Delight and liberty, the simple creed of childhood.

The mind that is wise mourns less for what age takes away; than what it leaves behind.

Hearing often-times the still, sad music of humanity, nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power to chasten and subdue.

The light that never was, on sea or land; The consecration, and the Poet's dream.

Dreams, books, are each a world; and books, we know, Are a substantial world, both pure and good: Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood, Our pastime and our happiness will grow.