The Last Excessive Feelings Of Delight Are

God Made Both Tears And Laughter, And Both For Kind Purposes; For As Laughter Enables Mirth And Surprise To Breathe Freely, So Tears Enable Sorrow To Vent Itself Patiently. Tears Hinder Sorrow From Becoming Despair And Madness.

We Are Violets Blue, For Our Sweetness Found Careless In The Mossy Shades, Looking On The Ground. Love's Dropp'd Eyelids And A Kiss,-- Such Our Breath And Blueness Is.

Poetry Is The Breath Of Beauty.

The Beautiful Attracts The Beautiful.

I Am Persuaded There Is No Such Thing After All As A Perfect Enjoyment Of Solitude; For The More Delicious The Solitude The More One Wants A Companion.