“Come Fairies, take me out of this dull world, for I would ride with you upon the wind and dance upon the mountains like a flame!”

It is love that I am seeking for, But of a beautiful, unheard-of kind That is not in the world.

The worst thing about some men is that when they are not drunk they are sober.

One man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face.

Man is in love and loves what vanishes, What more is there to say?

If suffering brings wisdom, I would wish to be less wise.

Words are always getting conventionalized to some secondary meaning. It is one of the works of poetry to take the truants in custody and bring them back to their right senses.

Wine enters through the mouth, Love, the eyes. I raise the glass to my mouth, I look at you, I sigh.

But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

There is another world, but it is in this one.

Rose of all Roses, Rose of all the World! You, too, have come where the dim tides are hurled. Upon the wharves of sorrow, and heard ring The bell that calls us on; the sweet far thing.

What can be explained is not poetry.

The winds that awakened the stars Are blowing through my blood.

Think where man’s glory most begins and ends, and say my glory was I had such friends.

And a softness came from the starlight and filled me full to the bone.

It seems to me that love, if it is fine, is essentially a discipline.

Love is created and preserved by intellectual analysis, for we love only that which is unique, and it belongs to contemplation, not to action, for we would not change that which we love.

So in a voice, so in a shapeless flame, Angels affect us often.

Thankfulness is the tune of angels.

But angels come to lead frail minds to rest in chaste desires, on heavenly beauty bound. You frame my thoughts, and fashion me within; you stop my tongue, and teach my heart to speak.

I often think flowers are the angels’ alphabet whereby they write on hills and fields mysterious and beautiful lessons for us to feel and learn.

Sooner and later you will see great changes made, dreadful horrors and vengeances. For as the Moon is thus led by its angel, the heavens draw near to the Balance.

God is so omnipresent. God is an angel in an angel, and a stone in a stone, and a straw in a straw.

Heaven did not seem to be my home; and I broke my heart with weeping to come back to earth; and the angels were so angry that they flung me out into the middle of the heath on the top of Wuthering Heights; where I woke sobbing for joy.

I throw myself down in my chamber, and I call in, and invite God, and his Angels thither, and when they are there, I neglect God and his Angels, for the noise of a fly, for the rattling of a coach, for the whining of a door.