“Sing again, with your dear voice revealing. A tone Of some world far from ours, where music and moonlight and feeling are one.”

Honour sits smiling at the sale of truth.

Poets are the hierophants of an unapprehended inspiration; the mirrors of the gigantic shadows which futurity casts upon the present.

To hearts which near each other move From evening close to morning light,The night is good; because, my love,They never say good-night.

Joy, once lost, is pain.

Fear not for the future, weep not for the past.

If a person’s religious ideas correspond not with your own, love him nevertheless.

A man, to be greatly good, must imagine intensely and comprehensively; he must put himself in the place of another and of many others; the pains and pleasures of his species must become his own.

Poetry lifts the veil from the hidden beauty of the world, and makes familiar objects be as if they were not familiar.

I love all waste And solitary places; where we taste The pleasure of believing what we see Is boundless, as we wish our souls to be.

Love withers under constraints: its very essence is liberty: it is compatible neither with obedience, jealousy, nor fear.

Only nature knows how to justly proportion to the fault the punishment it deserves.

When a man marries, dies, or turns Hindu, his best friends hear no more of him.

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.

This lake exceeds anything I ever beheld in beauty.

Are we not formed, as notes of music are, For one another, though dissimilar?

Poetry is the record of the best and happiest moments of the happiest and best minds.

There is no greater feeling than hanging out with my dogs, or just walking around the land with our horses. My rescue ranch is is where I feel the most at peace and where I’m reminded of the simple things in life and let the chaos of my crazy work life fade away.

I often find it’s just the confidence that makes you sexy, not what your body looks like. It’s how you feel about yourself that makes you sexy.

What’s happening is merely what’s happening. How you feel about it is another matter.

Every single ounce of pain I have ever felt was a bend on the road that led me to you.

If only you knew all the gifts that you bring to others. You would never feel sad again.

If you feel loved, you can do a thousand things. If you feel rejected, everything becomes a problem.

There comes a day when, for someone who has persecuted us, we feel only indifference, a weariness at his stupidity. Then we forgive him.

Sometimes I get the feeling that I’m stranded in the wrong time where love is just a lyric in a children’s rhyme