[Mathematics] is an independent world created out of pure intelligence.

Poetry is emotion recollected in tranquillity.

Recognizes ever and anon The breeze of Nature stirring in his soul.

Give unto me, made lowly wise, The spirit of self-sacrifice; The confidence of reason give, And in the light of truth thy bondman let me live!

We murder to dissect.

I have said that poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquillity: the emotion is contemplated till, by a species of reaction, the tranquillity gradually disappears, and an emotion, kindred to that which was before the subject of contemplation, is gradually produced, and does itself actually exist in the mind.

But who shall parcel out His intellect by geometric rules, Split like a province into round and square?