Let every book-worm, when in any fragrant, scarce old tome, he discovers a sentence, a story, an illustration, that does his heart good, hasten to give it the widest circulation that newspapers and magazines, penny and halfpenny, can afford.
Men, I still think, ought to be weighed, not counted. Their worth ought to be the final estimate of their value.
People of humor are always in some degree people of genius.
Since then, at an uncertain hour,
That agony returns:
And till my ghastly tale is told,
This heart within me burns.
What comes from the heart goes to the heart
There are four kinds of readers. The first is like the hourglass; and their reading being as the sand, it runs in and runs out, and leaves not a vestige behind. A second is like the sponge, which imbibes everything, and returns it in nearly the same state, only a little dirtier. A third is like a jelly bag, allowing all that is pure to pass away, and retaining only the refuse and dregs. And the fourth is like the slaves in the diamond mines of Golconda, who, casting aside all that is worthless, retain only pure gems.
Works of imagination should be written in very plain language; the more purely imaginative they are the more necessary it is to be plain.
Alone, alone, all, all alone,
Alone on a wide wide sea!
And never a saint took pity on
My soul in agony.
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.
Truth I pursued,as Fancy sketch’d the way,
And wiser men than I went worse astray.