Date: 1818

Love is a fluttering in the heart or rather a "Young feather'd tyrant"

— Keats, John (1795-1821)

Date: 1818

"Great Muse, thou know'st what prison, / Of flesh and bone, curbs, and confines, and frets / Our spirit's wings."

— Keats, John (1795-1821)

Date: 1818 (1819?)

"His soul has in its Autumn, when his wings / He furleth close."

— Keats, John (1795-1821)

Date: 1818 (1819?)

"He has his Summer, when luxuriously / Spring's honied cud of youthful thought he loves / To ruminate"

— Keats, John (1795-1821)

Date: 1819

"The plague-spot has not tainted me quite; I am not leprous all over, the lie of Legitimacy does not fix its mortal sting in my inmost soul, nor, like an ugly spider, entangle me in its slimy folds; but is kept off from me, and broods on its own poison."

— Hazlitt, William (1778-1830)

Date: 1819

"He is styed in his prejudices -- he wallows in the mire of his senses -- he cannot get beyond the trough of his sordid appetites, whether it is of gold or wood."

— Hazlitt, William (1778-1830)

Date: 1820

"Open wide the mind's cage-door, / She'll dart forth, and cloudward soar."

— Keats, John (1795-1821)

Date: 1820

"As though a tongueless nightingale should swell / Her throat in vain, and die, heart -stifled, in her dell"

— Keats, John (1795-1821)

Date: 1820

A soul may be "as ill at peace as the break-covert bloodhounds of such sin"

— Keats, John (1795-1821)

Date: 1820

The spirit may, like a "demon-mole," work thorugh "clayey soil and gravel hard"

— Keats, John (1795-1821)