“And, though my faith be broken, And, though my heart be broken,Here is a ring, as tokenThat I am happy now!”

“O craving heart, for the lost flowers/ And sunshine of my summer hours!/ The undying voice of that dead time,/ With its interminable chime,/ Rings in the spirit of a spell, / Upon thy emptiness--a knell. / I have not always been as now:”

“I have been happy, though in a dream.I have been happy-and I love the theme:Dreams! in their vivid colouring of lifeAs in that fleeting, shadowy, misty strife”

“Ah, broken is the golden bowl! the spirit flown forever!Let the bell toll!-a saintly soul floats on the Stygian river;And, Guy de Vere, hast thou no tear?-weep now or nevermore!”

“Yet I am not more sure that my soul lives, than I am that perverseness is one of the primitive impulses of the human heart - one of the indivisible primary faculties, or sentiments, which give direction to the character of man.”

“I have great faith in fools - self-confidence my friends will call it.”

“I have no faith in human perfectibility. I think that human exertion will have no appreciable effect upon humanity. Man is now only more active - not more happy - nor more wise, than he was 6000 years ago.”