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Invisible things are the only realities.
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There are few persons who have not, at some period of their lives, amused themselves in retracing the steps by which particular conclusions of their own minds have been attained. The occupation is often full of interest and he who attempts it for the first time is astonished by the apparently illimitable distance and incoherence between the starting-point and the goal.
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Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!
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Never to suffer would have been never to have been blessed.
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Odors have an altogether peculiar force, in affecting us through association; a force differing essentially from that of objects addressing the touch, the taste, the sight or the hearing.
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I need scarcely observe that a poem deserves its title only inasmuch as it excites, by elevating the soul. The value of the poem is in the ratio of this elevating excitement. But all excitements are, through a psychal necessity, transient.
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Most writers - poets in especial - prefer having it understood that they compose by a species of fine frenzy - an ecstatic intuition - and would positively shudder at letting the public take a peep behind the scenes.
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There is no beauty without some strangeness...
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Thy soul shall find itself alone ’Mid dark thoughts of the gray tombstone— Not one, of all the crowd, to pry Into thine hour of secrecy. Be silent in that solitude, Which is not loneliness—for then The spirits of the dead who stood In life before thee are again In death around thee—and their will Shall overshadow thee: be still.
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My next thought concerned the choice of an impression, or effect, to be conveyed: and here I may as well observe that, throughout the construction, I kept steadily in view the design.
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We had always dwelled together, beneath a tropical sun, in the Valley of the Many Colored Grass.
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He is, as you say, a remarkable horse, a prodigious horse, although as you very justly observe, a suspicious and untractable character.
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One half of the pleasure experienced at a theatre arises from the spectator's sympathy with the rest of the audience, and, especially from his belief in their sympathy with him.
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And I fell violently on my face.
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Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words.
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For my own part, I have never had a thought which I could not set down in words, with even more distinctness than that with which I conceived it.
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The mere imitation, however accurate, of what is in Nature, entitles no man to the sacred name of Artist...
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Imperceptibly the love of these discords grew upon me as my love of music grew stronger.
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Decorum -- that bug-bear which deters so many from bliss until the opportunity for bliss has forever gone by.
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Children are never too tender to be whipped. Like tough beefsteaks, the more you beat them, the more tender they become.
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Ah! what is not a dream by day To him whose eyes are cast On things around him with a ray Turned back upon the past? That holy dream- that holy dream, While all the world were chiding, Hath cheered me as a lovely beam A lonely spirit guiding. What though that light, thro' storm and night, So trembled from afar- What could there be more purely bright In Truth's day-star?
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The usual derivation of the word Metaphysics is not to be sustainedthe science is supposed to take its name from its superiority to physics. The truth is, that Aristotle's treatise on Morals is next in succession to his Book of Physics.
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Marking a book is literally an experience of your differences or agreements with the author. It is the highest respect you can pay him.
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When, indeed, men speak of Beauty, they mean, precisely, not a quality, as is supposed, but an effect - they refer, in short, just to that intense and pure elevation of soul - not of intellect, or of heart.