Let Nature be your teacher

Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.

The memory of the just survives in Heaven.

The eye— it cannot choose but see; we cannot bid the ear be still; our bodies feel, where'er they be, against or with our will.

Open-mindedness is the harvest of a quiet eye.

The stars of midnight shall be dear To her; and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face.

Wrongs unredressed, or insults unavenged.