Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. dreams
Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words. beauty & poetry
I would define, in brief, the poetry of words as the rhythmical creation of Beauty. beauty & poetry
The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins? best, death & life
Man's real life is happy, chiefly because he is ever expecting that it soon will be so. life
Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things that escape those who dream only at night. imagination
It is by no means an irrational fancy that, in a future existence, we shall look upon what we think our present existence, as a dream. the future
We loved with a love that was more than love. love
I have great faith in fools self-confidence my friends call it. faith & greatness
To vilify a great man is the readiest way in which a little man can himself attain greatness. greatness
It is the nature of truth in general, as of some ores in particular, to be richest when most superficial. nature & truth
The death of a beautiful woman, is unquestionably the most poetical topic in the world. death
I wish I could write as mysterious as a cat. pets
Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality. power
The nose of a mob is its imagination. By this, at any time, it can be quietly led. imagination & time
Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears. beauty
With me poetry has not been a purpose, but a passion. poetry
All religion, my friend, is simply evolved out of fraud, fear, greed, imagination, and poetry. fear, imagination, poetry & religion
Science has not yet taught us if madness is or is not the sublimity of the intelligence. intelligence & science