Music Tells No Truths.

My Favoured Temple Is An Humble Heart.

The Hero Is The World-man, In Whose Heart One Passion Stands For All, The Most Indulged.

Who Can Mistake Great Thoughts? They Seize Upon The Mind; Arrest And Search, And Shake It; Bow The Tall Soul As By Wind; Rush Over It Like A River Reeds.

A Poet Not In Love Is Out At Sea; He Must Have A Lay-figure.

Fine Thoughts Are Wealth, For The Right Use Of Which Men Are And Ought To Be Accountable,-- If Not To Thee, To Those They Influence.