“I have not loved the world, nor the world me.”

The dew of compassion is a tear.

My heart in passion, and my head on rhymes.

Think not I am what I appear.

In solitude, where we are least alone.

Good work and joyous play go hand in hand. When play stops, old age begins. Play keeps you from taking life too seriously.

It is useless to tell one not to reason but to believe; you might as well tell a man not to wake but sleep.

We have fools in all sects, and impostors in most; why should I believe mysteries no one can understand, because written by men who chose to mistake madness for inspiration and style themselves Evangelicals?

A woman who gives any advantage to a man may expect a lover – but will sooner or later find a tyrant.

Reason is so unreasonable, that few people can say they are in possession of it.

The lapse of ages changes all things – time, language, the earth, the bounds of the sea, the stars of the sky, and every thing about, around, and underneath man, except man himself.

Eternity forbids thee to forget.

That music in itself, whose sounds are song, The poetry of speech.

Society is now one polished horde, formed of two mighty tries, the Bores and Bored.

We are all the fools of time and terror: Days Steal on us and steal from us; yet we live, Loathing our life, and dreading still to die.

The dome of thought, the palace of the soul.

Where there is mystery, it is generally suspected there must also be evil.

To make us feel small in the right way is a function of art; men can only make us feel small in the wrong way.

I really feel the novel has certain conveniences about it and has something so fundamental about it you could almost say that as long as there is paper, there is going to be the novel.

Sacrifices are concerned with the feelings of devotion and longing.

A feeling of violation swayed inside me, making me feel as if id been shoved off a high platform without warning. I was falling, and i feared the sensation far more than hitting bottom. There was no end; just a constantsense of gravity having its way with me.

Suddenly women’s lib had made me feel my life had been wasted.

It is painful to be told that anything is very fine and not be able to feel that it is fine–something like being blind, while people talk of the sky.

Seriously, I’ve just realized that almost everyone is a fraud, so I try not to feel too bad about it.

It will make you feel as if you had not eaten, and you can drink as much as you like.