Love in a hut with water and a crust Is - Love forgive us! - cinders ashes dust.
Besides, a long poem is a test of invention, which I take to be the Polar star of Poetry, as Fancy is the sails - and Imagination the rudder.
What the imagination seizes as beauty must be truth.
A proverb is no proverb to you till life has illustrated it.
Soft closer of our eyes! Low murmur of tender lullabies!
Beauty is truth truth beauty.
Nothing ever becomes real 'til it is experienced.
The only means of strengthening one's intellect is to make up one's mindabout nothing -- to let the mind be a thoroughfare for all thoughts.
A drainless shower of light is poesy 'tis the supreme of power 'tis might half slumb'ring on its own right arm.
Failure ... is in a sense the highway to success inasmuch as every discovery of what is false leads us to seek earnestly after what is true and every fresh experience points out some form of error...
A thing of beauty is a joy forever.
I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the Heart's affections and the truth of the Imagination.
The poetry of the earth is never dead.
Call the world, if you please, "the Vale of Soul Making". Then you will find out the use of the world....There may be intelligences or sparks of the divinity in millions -- but they are not Souls till...
Nor do we merely feel these essences for one short hour no, even as these trees that whisper round a temple become soon dear as the temples self, so does the moon, the passion posey, glories infinite,...
I have been astonished that men could die martyrs for their religion I have shudder'd at it. I shudder no more. I could be martyr'd for my religion Love is my religion And I could die for that. I coul...
The same that oft-times hath charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam of perilous seas, in fairy lands forlorn.
I have met with women who I really think would like to be married to a poem and to be given away by a novel.
No one can usurp the heights...But those to whom the miseries of the worldAre misery, and will not let them rest.
But this is human life: the war, the deeds, The disappointment, the anxiety, Imagination’s struggles, far and nigh,All human; bearing in themselves this good, That they are still the air, the subtle f...