“A man can't soar too high, when he flies with his own wings.”

“Little FlyThy summers play,My thoughtless handHas brush'd away.Am not IA fly like thee?Or art not thouA man like me?For I dance And drink & sing: Till some blind hand Shall brush my wing. If thought is life And strength & breath: And the want Of thought is death; Then am I A happy fly, If I live, Or if I die”

“How can the bird that is born for joySit in a cage and sing?How can a child, when fears annoy,But droop his tender wing,And forget his youthful spring?”

“He who kisses joy as it flies by will live in eternity's sunrise.”

“He who binds to himself a joyDoes the winged life destroy;But he who kisses the joy as it fliesLives in eternity's sun rise.”

“Oh! why was I born with a different face? why was I not born like the rest of my race? when I look,each one starts! when I speak, I offend; then Im silent & passive & lose every friend. Then my verse I dishonour, my pictures despise, my person degrade & my temper chastise; and the pen is my terror, the pencil my shame; all my talents I bury, and dead is my fame. Im either too low or too highly prized; when elate I m envy'd, when meek Im despis'd”

“Make your own rules or be a slave to another man's.”