Yea, all things live forever, though at times they sleep and are forgotten. ― H. Rider Haggard, She. (Oxford University Press, October 22, 1998) Originally published 1887.
And still I stood looking at the house, thinking how happy I should be if I lived there with her, and knowing that I never was happy with her, but always miserable. ― Charles Dickens, Great Expectations. (Chapman & Hall; Serialized 1860-1; book form 1861)
Rise like Lions after slumber In unvanquishable number- Shake your chains to earth like dew Which in sleep had fallen on you Ye are many-they are few. ― Percy Bysshe Shelley, from The Masque of Anarchy: Written on Occasion of the Massacre at Manchester. (1819)
I met a traveler from an antique land Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on… Continue reading Percy Bysshe Shelley
What if you slept? And what if, In your sleep You dreamed? And what if, In your dream, You went to Heaven And there plucked A strange and Beautiful flower? And what if, When you awoke, You had the flower In your hand? Ah… what then? — Samuel Taylor Coleridge, “A Strange and Beautiful Flower,”… Continue reading Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Sometimes I have the strangest feeling about you. Especially when you are near me as you are now. It feels as though I had a string tied here under my left rib where my heart is, tightly knotted to you in a similar fashion. And when you go, with all that distance between us, I… Continue reading Charlotte Brontë
I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the Heart’s affections and the truth of the imagination. What imagination seizes as Beauty must be truth. — John Keats, Letters of John Keats to His Family and Friends. (Sagwan Press, August 22, 2015) Originally published January 10th 2008.