Poet

Who loves, raves.

As long as I retain my feeling and my passion for Nature, I can partly soften or subdue my other passions and resist or endure those of others.

For what were all these country patriots born? To hunt, and vote, and raise the price of corn?

A celebrity is one who is known to many persons he is glad he doesn't know.

The heart will break, but broken live on.

There is no instinct like that of the heart.

Though I love my country, I do not love my countrymen.

To withdraw myself from myself has ever been my sole, my entire, my sincere motive in scribbling at all.

Be thou the rainbow in the storms of life. The evening beam that smiles the clouds away, and tints tomorrow with prophetic ray.

All who joy would win must share it. Happiness was born a Twin.

We are all selfish and I no more trust myself than others with a good motive.

Ye stars! which are the poetry of heaven!

But what is Hope? Nothing but the paint on the face of Existence; the least touch of truth rubs it off, and then we see what a hollow-cheeked harlot we have got hold of.

Nothing can confound a wise man more than laughter from a dunce.

I am sure of nothing so little as my own intentions.

Sorrow is knowledge, those that know the most must mourn the deepest, the tree of knowledge is not the tree of life.

Every day confirms my opinion on the superiority of a vicious life - and if Virtue is not its own reward I don't know any other stipend annexed to it.

What should I have known or written had I been a quiet, mercantile politician or a lord in waiting? A man must travel, and turmoil, or there is no existence.

But words are things, and a small drop of ink, Falling like dew, upon a thought, produces That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think.

Why I came here, I know not; where I shall go it is useless to inquire - in the midst of myriads of the living and the dead worlds, stars, systems, infinity, why should I be anxious about an atom?