Already With Thee! Tender Is The Night.

There Is Not A Fiercer Hell Than The Failure In A Great Object.

I Scarcely Remember Counting Upon Happiness—i Look Not For It If It Be Not In The Present Hour—nothing Startles Me Beyond The Moment. The Setting Sun Will Always Set Me To Rights, Or If A Sparrow Come Before My Window I Take Part In Its Existence And Pick About The Gravel.

O Solitude! If I Must With Thee Dwell, Let It Not Be Among The Jumbled Heap Of Murky Buildings

There Was An Awful Rainbow Once In Heaven: We Know Her Woof, Her Texture; She Is Given In The Dull Catalogue Of Common Things. Philosophy Will Clip An Angel's Wings.

I Am Certain Of Nothing But The Holiness Of The Heart's Affections, And The Truth Of Imagination.