Nature I Loved, And Next To Nature,

The Happiest Of Pillows Is Not That Which Love First Presses! It Is That Which Death Has Frowned On And Passed Over.

Ah What Avails The Sceptred Race, Ah What The Form Divine! What Every Virtue, Every Grace! Rose Aylmer, All Were Thine. Rose Aylmer, Whom These Wakeful Eyes May Weep, But Never See, A Night Of Memories And Of Sighs I Consecrate To Thee.

The Habit Of Pleasing By Flattery Makes A Language Soft; The Fear Of Offending By Truth Makes It Circuitous And Conventional.

I Would Recommend A Free Commerce Both Of Matter And Mind. I Would Let Men Enter Their Own Churches With The Same Freedom As Their Own Houses; And I Would Do It Without A Homily Or Graciousness Or Favor, For Tyranny Itself Is To Me A Word Less Odious Than Toleration.

Sculpture And Painting Are Moments Of Life; Poetry Is Life Itself.