If One Doesn't Know One's Own Country,

The Fine Emotions Whence Our Lives We Mold Lie In The Earthly Tumult Dumb And Cold.

There Are Three Classes Of Readers; Some Enjoy Without Judgment; Others Judge Without Enjoyment; And Some There Are Who Judge While They Enjoy, And Enjoy While They Judge. The Latter Class Reproduces The Work Of Art On Which It Is Engaged. Its Numbers Are Very Small.

Mankind? That Is An Abstraction. There Have Always Been And Always Will Be Only Individuals.

My Poor Head Is In Such A Whirl, My Mind Is All In Bits.

If A Poet Would Work Politically, He Must Give Himself Up To A Party; And So Soon As He Does That, He Is Lost As A Poet.