Love Is Flower Like; Friendship Is Like

For She Belike Hath Drunken Deep Of All The Blessedness Of Sleep.

An Orphan's Curse Would Drag To Hell, A Spirit From On High; But Oh! More Horrible Than That, Is A Curse In A Dead Man's Eye!

A Man's As Old As He's Feeling. A Woman As Old As She Looks.

Where Virtue Is, Sensibility Is The Ornament And Becoming Attire Of Virtue. On Certain Occasions It May Almost Be Said To Become Virtue. But Sensibility And All The Amiable Qualities May Likewise Become, And Too Often Have Become, The Panders Of Vice And The Instruments Of Seduction.

The Genius Of Coleridge Is Like A Sunken Treasure Ship, And Coleridge A Diver Too Timid And Lazy To Bring Its Riches To The Surface.