“What is there in thee, Man, that can be known?Dark fluxion, all unfixable by thought,A phantom dim of past and future wrought,Vain sister of the worm ...”

“Then all the charm Is broken--all that phantom-world so fair Vanishes, and a thousand circlets spread, And each mis-shape the other.”

“Language is the armory of the human mind, and at once contains the trophies of its past and the weapons of its future conquests.”

“And to be wroth with one we love…Doth work like madness in the brain.”

“And life is thorny; and youth is vain”

“Let every book-worm, when in any fragrant, scarce old tome, he discovers a sentence, a story, an illustration, that does his heart good, hasten to give it the widest circulation that newspapers and magazines, penny and halfpenny, can afford.”

“Still flutters there, the sole unquiet thing.Methinks, its motion in this hush of natureGives it dim sympathies with me who live,Making it a companionable form,Whose puny flaps and freaks the idling SpiritBy its own moods interprets, every whereEcho or mirror seeking of itself,And makes a toy of Thought.”