Oh, the summer night, has a smile of light, and she sits on a sapphire throne.

The sea! The sea! The open sea! The blue, the fresh, the ever free!

That which we know is but little; that which we have a presentiment of is immense; it is in this direction that the poet outruns the learned man.

My chains fell off, my heart was free; I rose, went forth, and followed thee.

You’re always believing ahead of your evidence. What was the evidence I could write a poem? I just believed it. The most creative thing in us is to believe in a thing.

One merit of poetry few persons will deny: it says more and in fewer words than prose.

The world is full of poetry. The air is living with its spirit; and the waves dance to the music of its melodies, and sparkle in its brightness.

Poets utter great and wise things which they do not themselves understand.

Poetry is the music of the soul, and, above all, of great and feeling souls.

Poetry is the record of the best and happiest moments of the happiest and best minds.