“And men, whose reason long was blind, From cells of madness unconfined, Oft lose whole years of darker mind.”

If I had a flower for every time I thought of you. I could walk through my garden forever.

My doom is, I love thee still. Let no man dream but that I love thee still.

Life is brief but love is LONG .

My life has crept so long on a broken wing Through cells of madness, haunts of horror and fear, That I come to be grateful at last for a little thing.

Men at most differ as Heaven and Earth, but women, worst and best, as Heaven and Hell.

The happiness of a man in this life does not consist in the absence but in the mastery of his passions.

Love is the only gold.

Ring out the grief that saps the mind, for those that were here we see no more.

Ah, when shall all men’s good Be each man’s rule, and universal peace Lie like a shaft of light across the land, And like a lane of beams athwart the sea, Thro’ all the circle of the golden year?

For love reflects the thing beloved.

Thou madest man, he knows not why, he thinks he was not made to die.

What the sunshine is to the flower, the Lord Jesus Christ is to my soul.

And the days darken round me, and the years, Among new men, strange faces, other minds.

There is sweet music here that softer falls Than petals from blown roses on the grass.

I can’t be anonymous by reason of your confounded photographs. (To Julia Margaret Cameron)

A beam in darkness: let it grow.

Music took me from a real dark place to a real bright one.

I have but one passion: to enlighten those who have been kept in the dark, in the name of humanity which has suffered so much and is entitled to happiness. My fiery protest is simply the cry of my very soul.

Stars shine brighter when nights are darker and life flourishes most when the rain is heavier.

I like the night. Without the dark, we’d never see the stars.

The cynic is one who never sees a good quality in a man, and never fails to see a bad one. He is the human owl, vigilant in darkness and blind to light, mousing for vermin, and never seeing noble game.

The story was a sleeping girl in a narrow bed Dark hair thick and wild and twisted like seaweed across the pillow.

To drive out the darkness, bring in the light.

If you are afraid of the dark, why do you keep on going back to it? You might be afraid of the light.