-
On no other ground Can I sow my seed Without tearing up Some stinking weed.
-
It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend.
-
Do what you will this life's a fiction, And is made up of contradiction.
-
When the stars threw down their spears, and watered heaven with their tears, did he smile his work to see? Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
-
Eternity is in love with the productions of time.
-
But most thro' midnight streets I hear How the youthful Harlots curse Blasts the new-born Infants tear And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse
-
The vision of Christ that thou dost see Is my vision's greatest enemy.
-
The eagle never lost so much time as when he submitted to learn of the crow.
-
Energy is the only life, and is from the body; and reason is the bound or outward circumference of energy. Energy is eternal delight.
-
Sweet babe, in thy face Soft desires I can trace, Secret joys and secret smiles, Little pretty infant wiles.
-
Thou art a man God is no more Thy own humanity Learn to adore.
-
The mocker of Art is the mocker of Jesus.
-
Mercy, pity, and peace, Are the world's release.
-
For everything that lives is holy, life delights in life.
-
Father, O father! what do we here In this land of unbelief and fear?
-
We are not meant to resolve all contradictions but to live with them and rise above them.
-
To see a world in a grain of sand and a heaven in a wildflower.
-
When the doors of perception are cleansed, men will see things as they truly are, infinite.
-
The most sublime act is to set another before you.
-
Wisdom is sold in a desolate marketplace where none can come to buy.
-
LOVE'S SECRET Never seek to tell thy love, Love that never told can be; For the gentle wind doth move Silently, invisibly. I told my love, I told my love, I told her all my heart, Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears. Ah! she did depart! Soon after she was gone from me, A traveller came by, Silently, invisibly: He took her with a sigh.
-
Ah, sunflower, weary of time, Who countest the steps of the sun, Seeking after that sweet golden clime Where the traveller's journey is done; Where the youth pined away with desire And the pale virgin shrouded in snow Arise from their graves, and aspire Where my sunflower wishes to go.
-
My mother bore me in the southern wild, And I am black, but O! my soul is white; White as an angel is the English child, But I am black as if bereaved of light.
-
Always be ready to speak your mind, and a base man will avoid you.