Despair Is The Only Genuine Atheism.

The Purer The Golden Vessel, The More Readily Is It Bent; The Higher Worth Of Woman Is Sooner Lost Than That Of Man.

Romanticism Is Beauty Without Bounds-the Beautiful Infinite.

Every Man Has A Rainy Corner Of His Life Whence Comes Foul Weather Which Follows Him.

For No One Does Life Drag More Disagreeably Than For Those Who Try To Speed It Up.

There Are So Many Tender And Holy Emotions Flying About In Our Inward World, Which, Like Angels, Can Never Assume The Body Of An Outward Act; So Many Rich And Lovely Flowers Spring Up Which Bear No Seed, That It Is A Happiness Poetry Was Invented, Which Receives Into Its Limbs All These Incorporeal Spirits, And The Perfume Of All These Flowers.