“My mind has been the most discontented and restless one that ever was put into a body too small for it.”

Nothing ever becomes real till experienced – even a proverb is no proverb until your life has illustrated it.

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its loveliness increases; it will never Pass into nothingness; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.

Some say the world is a vale of tears, I say it is a place of soul-making.

Philosophy will clip an angel’s wings, Conquer all mysteries by rule and line, Empty the haunted air, and gnomed mine – Unweave a rainbow.

If I should die, I have left no immortal work behind me — nothing to make my friends proud of my memory — but I have loved the principle of beauty in all things, and if I had had time I would have made myself remembered.

The creature has a purpose, and his eyes are bright with it.

The open sky sits upon our senses like a sapphire crown – the Air is our robe of state – the Earth is our throne, and the Sea a mighty minstrel playing before it.

I love your hills and I love your dales, And I love your flocks a-bleating; but oh, on the heather to lie together, With both our hearts a-beating!

To stay youthful, stay useful.

I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the heart’s affections, and the truth of imagination.

You are always new. The last of your kisses was even the sweetest; the last smile the brightest; the last movement the gracefullest.

Nothing ever becomes real till it is experienced.

My imagination is a monastery and I am its monk.

Wherein lies happiness? In that which becks Our ready minds to fellowship divine, A fellowship with essence; till we shine, Full alchemiz’d, and free of space. Behold The clear religion of heaven!

You are always new to me.

I would sooner fail than not be among the greatest.