Poetry is the record of the best and happiest moments of the happiest and best minds. — Percy Bysshe Shelley. English poet (1792–1822)
A man, to be greatly good, must magine intensely and comprehensively; he must put himself in the place of another and in many others; the pains and pleasures of his species must become his own.
Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory; Odors, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken.