Lovely Was The Death Of Him Whose

Centres, Or Centre-pieces Of Wood, Are Put By Builders Under An Arch Of Stone While It Is In The Process Of Construction Till The Keystone Is Put In. Just Such Is The Use Satan Makes Of Pleasures To Construct Evil Habits Upon; The Pleasure Lasts Till The Habit Is Fully Formed; But That Done The Habit May Stand Eternal. The Pleasures Are Sent For Firewood, And The Hell Begins In This Life.

Creation Rather Than Painting, Or If Painting, Yet Such, And With Such Co-presence Of The Whole Picture Flash'd At Once Upon The Eye, As The Sun Paints In A Camera Obscura. (describing His Poetic Ideal, 1817)

A Falsehood Is, In One Sense, A Dead Thing; But Too Often It Moves About, Galvanized By Self-will, And Pushes The Living Out Of Their Seats.

Guilt Is A Timorous Thing Ere Perpetration; Despair Alone Makes Guilty Men Be Bold.

The Faults Of Great Authors Are Generally Excellences Carried To An Excess.