Percy Bysshe Shelley

Cold hopes swarm like worms within our living clay.

I love all waste _x000D_ And solitary places; where we taste _x000D_ The pleasure of believing what we see _x000D_ Is boundless, as we wish our souls to be.

In the infancy of society every author is necessarily a poet

Man who man would be, must rule the empire of himself.

Duty and dereliction guide thee back to solitude.

Twin-sister of Religion, Selfishness.

By all that is sacred in our hope for the human race, I conjure those who love happiness and truth to give a fair trial to the vegetable system!

The cemetery is an open space among the ruins, covered in winter with violets and daisies. It might make one in love with death, to think that one should be buried in so sweet a place.

And Spring arose on the garden fair,_x000D_ _x000D_ Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere;_x000D_ _x000D_ And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast_x000D_ _x000D_ rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.

I silently laugh at my own cenotaph,_x000D_ And out of the caverns of rain,_x000D_ Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb,_x000D_ I arise and unbuild it again.

God is represented as infinite, eternal, incomprehensible; he is contained under every predicate in non that the logic of ignorance could fabricate.

To suffer woes which Hope thinks infinite; To forgive wrongs darker than death or night; To defy Power, which seems omnipotent; To love, and bear; to hope till Hope creates From it's own wreck the thing it contemplates; Neither to change, not falter, nor repent; This, like thy glory, Titan, is to be Good, great and joyous,beautiful and free; This is alone Life, Joy, Empire, and Victory

To hearts which near each other move From evening close to morning light,The night is good; because, my love,They never say good-night.

O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being. Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing.

All spirits are enslaved which serve things evil

Thou hast a voice, great Mountain, to repeal. Large codes of fraud and woe; not understood by all, but which the wise, and great, and good interpret, or make felt, or deeply feel.

It is easier to suppose that the universe has existed for all eternity than to conceive a being beyond its limits capable of creating it.

Love's Pestilence, and her slow dogs of war.

Fate,Time,Occasion,Chance, and Change? To these All things are subject but eternal love.

The splendors of the firmament of time May be eclipsed, but are extinguished not; Like stars to their appointed height they climb And death is a low mist which cannot blot The brightness it may veil.

If he is infinitely good, what reason should we have to fear him? If he is infinitely wise, what doubts should we have concerning our future? If he knows all, why warn him of our needs and fatigue him with our prayers? If he is everywhere, why erect temples to him? If he is just, why fear that he will punish the creatures that he has filled with weaknesses?