You speak of Lord Byron and me; there is this great difference between us. He describes what he sees I describe what I imagine. Mine is the hardest task.
The poetry of the earth is never dead.
I love you the more in that I believe you had liked me for my own sake and for nothing else.
Scenery is fine – but human nature is finer.
I am in that temper that if I were under water I would scarcely kick to come to the top.
Though a quarrel in the streets is a thing to be hated, the energies displayed in it are fine; the commonest man shows a grace in his quarrel.
What the imagination seizes as beauty must be truth.
The Public – a thing I cannot help looking upon as an enemy, and which I cannot address without feelings of hostility.