Nothing can happen more beautiful than death.
Category Archive: 1819
Give me odorous at sunrise a garden of beautiful flowers where I can walk undisturbed.
And your very flesh shall be a great poem.
I was born ‘neath a clouded star.
It is the privilege of genius that life never grows common place, as it does for the rest of us.
Truth forever on the scaffold, wrong forever on the throne.
How utterly are one’s best thoughts invaded by this going out in society.
I am as bad as the worst, but, thank God, I am as good as the best.
I shall stick to my resolution of writing always what I think no matter whom it offends.
If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars.