You speak of Lord Byron and me there is this great difference between us. He describes what he sees I describe what I imagine. Mine is the hardest task.

Land and sea, weakness and decline are great separators, but death is the great divorcer for ever.

I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the heart's affections, and the truth of imagination.

My imagination is a monastery and I am its monk.

What the imagination seizes as beauty must be truth.