No Act Terminating In Itself Constitutes Greatness.

He Who Would See Old Hoghton Right Must View It By The Pale Moonlight.

Our Repugnance To Death Increases In Proportion To Our Consciousness Of Having Lived In Vain.

Fashion Constantly Begins And Ends In The Two Things It Abhors Most, Singularity And Vulgarity.

People Do Not Seem To Talk For The Sake Of Expressing Their Opinions, But To Maintain An Opinion For The Sake Of Talking.

The Poetical Impression Of Any Object Is That Uneasy, Exquisite Sense Of Beauty Or Power That Cannot Be Contained Within Itself; That Is Impatient Of All Limit; That (as Flame Bends To Flame) Strives To Link Itself To Some Other Image Of Kindred Beauty Or Grandeur; To Enshrine Itself, As It Were, In The Highest Forms Of Fancy, And To Relieve The Aching Sense Of Pleasure By Expressing It In The Boldest Manner.