Literature is an avenue to glory, ever open for those ingenious men who are deprived of honours or of wealth.
The act of contemplation creates the thing contemplated.
The art of meditation may be exercised at all hours, and in all places; and men of genius, in their walks, at table, and amidst assemblies, turning he eye of the mind inwards, can form an artificial solitude; retired amidst a crowd, calm amidst distraction, and wise amidst folly.
Romance has been elegantly defined as the offspring of fiction and love.
There is a society in the deepest solitude.
Solitude is the nurse of enthusiasm, and enthusiasm is the true parent of genius. In all ages solitude has been called for—has been flown to.
The most noble criticism is that in which the critic is not the antagonist so much as the rival of the author.
Fortune has rarely condescended to be the companion of genius.
It is a wretched taste to be gratified with mediocrity when the excellent lies before us.
Wondering Whom to Read Next?
- Thomas de Quincey English Essayist, Critic
- Edward Lear English Humorist, Illustrator
- Thomas Robert Malthus English Political Economist
- John Aikin British Educator
- Petrarch Italian Scholar
- A. E. Housman English Scholar, Poet
- Eliza Cook English Author
- C. Northcote Parkinson British Historian
- Holbrook Jackson British Journalist
- John Keats English Poet