Nothing ever becomes real till experienced – even a proverb is no proverb until your life has illustrated it
I Cannot Exist Without You. I Am Forgetful Of Everything But Seeing You Again.
Shed no tear - O, shed no tear! The flower will bloom another year. Weep no more - O, weep no more! Young buds sleep in the root's white core.
The excellence of every Art is its intensity.
A thing of beauty is a joy forever.
Some say the world is a vale of tears, I say it is a place of soul-making.
Health is the greatest of blessings - with health and hope we should be content to live.
Failure is, in a sense, the highway to success.
Do you not see how necessary a world of pains and troubles is to school an intelligence and make it a soul?
Now a soft kiss - Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss.
I cannot exist without you - I am forgetful of every thing but seeing you again - my Life seems to stop there - I see no further. You have absorb'd me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I were dissolving... I have been astonished that Men could die Martyrs for religion - I have shudder'd at it - I shudder no more - I could be martyr'd for my Religion - Love is my religion - I could die for that - I could die for you. My creed is Love and you are its only tenet - You have ravish'd me away by a Power I cannot resist.
All writing is a form of prayer.
A man's life of any worth is a continual allegory.
You are always new, the last of your kisses was ever the sweetest.
O for a life of Sensations rather than of Thoughts!
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!
Pleasure is oft a visitant; but pain Clings cruelly to us.
Many have original minds who do not think it - they are led away by custom!
Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget.
The air is all softness.
Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought As doth eternity.
Like a mermaid in sea-weed, she dreams awake, trembling in her soft and chilly nest.
Love is my religion - I could die for it.
Even bees, the little almsmen of spring bowers, know there is richest juice in poison-flowers.
I want a brighter word than bright
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