“Thou art a manGod is no moreThy own humanityLearn to adore”

“O Rose, thou art sick.The invisible wormThat flies in the nightIn the howling stormHas found out thy bedOf crimson joy,And his dark secret loveDoes thy life destroy.”

“I said: 'Thou thing of patches, rings,Pins, necklaces and suchlike things,Disguiser of the female form,Thou paltry, gilded poisonous worm!”

“Both read the Bible day and night,But thou read'st black where I read white.”

“Pluck thou my flower, Oothoon the mild; Another flower shall spring, because the soul of sweet delight Can never pass away.”

“When nations grow old the Arts grow coldAnd commerce settles on every tree”

“He who would do good to another must do it in Minute Particulars; General Good is the plea of the scoundrel, hypocrite and flatterer: For Art and Science cannot exist but in minutely organized Particulars.”