“...she felt in her mind the consciousness that she was entitled to hold a higher rank from her merit, than the arbitrary despotism of religious prejudice permitted her to aspire to.”

“Albert GraemeIt was an English ladye bright,(The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall)And she would marry a Scottish knight,For Love will still be lord of all.Blithely they saw the rising sunWhen he shone fair on Carlisle wall;But they were sad ere day was done,Though Love was still the lord of all.Her sire gave brooch and jewel fine,Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall;Her brother gave but a flask of wine,For ire that Love was lord of all.For she had lands both meadow and lea,Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,For he swore her death, ere he would seeA Scottish knight the lord of all.That wine she had not tasted well(The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall)When dead, in her true love's arms, she fell,For Love was still the lord of all!He pierced her brother to the heart,Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,So perish all would true love partThat Love may still be lord of all!And then he took the cross divine,Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,And died for her sake in Palestine;So Love was still the lord of all.Now all ye lovers, that faithful prove,(The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall)Pray for their souls who died for love,For Love shall still be lord of all!-- Canto 6”

“Chivalry!---why, maiden, she is the nurse of pure and high affection---the stay of the oppressed, the redresser of grievances, the curb of the power of the tyrant ---Nobility were but an empty name without her, and liberty finds the best protection in her lance and her sword.”

“...crystal and hearts would lose all their merit in the world if it were not for their fragility.”

“I pretend not to be a champion of that same naked virtue called truth, to the very outrance. I can consent that her charms be hidden with a veil, were it but for decency's sake.”

“In the wide pile, by others heeded not,Hers was one sacred solitary spot,Whose gloomy aisles and bending shelves containFor moral hunger food, and cures for moral pain.”

“Once upon a time there lived an old woman, called Janet Gellatley, who was suspected to be a witch, on the infallible grounds that she was very old, very ugly, very poor, and had two sons, one of whom was a poet, and the other a fool, which visitation, all the neighbourhood agreed, had come upon her for the sin of witchcraft.”