Date: May 26, 1816
"The impression slides off from the eye, and does not, like the tones of Titian's pencil, leave a sting behind it in the mind of the spectator."
preview | full record— Hazlitt, William (1778-1830)
Date: 1817
"The poetic PSYCHE, in its process to full development, undergoes as many changes as its Greek name-sake, the butterfly."
preview | full record— Coleridge, Samuel Taylor (1772-1834)
Date: 1817
"Most of my readers will have observed a small water-insect on the surface of rivulets, which throws a cinque-spotted shadow fringed with prismatic colours on the sunny bottom of the brook; and will have noticed, how the little animal wins its way up against the stream, by alternate pulses of act...
preview | full record— Coleridge, Samuel Taylor (1772-1834)
Date: August 1817
"There is no natural harmony in the ordinary combinations of significant sounds: the language of prose is not the language of music, or of passion: and it is to supply this inherent defect in the mechanism of language--to make the sound an echo to the sense, when the sense becomes a sort of echo ...
preview | full record— Hazlitt, William (1778-1830)
Date: 1818
Love is a fluttering in the heart or rather a "Young feather'd tyrant"
preview | full record— 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."
preview | full record— Keats, John (1795-1821)
Date: 1818 (1819?)
"His soul has in its Autumn, when his wings / He furleth close."
preview | full record— Keats, John (1795-1821)
Date: 1818 (1819?)
"He has his Summer, when luxuriously / Spring's honied cud of youthful thought he loves / To ruminate"
preview | full record— Keats, John (1795-1821)
Date: 1819
The "Arab is as intimately connected with camel and horse as is body with soul"
preview | full record— Goethe, Johann Wolfgang (1749-1832)
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."
preview | full record— Hazlitt, William (1778-1830)