Poetry deserves the honor it obtains as the eldest offspring of literature, and the fairest. It is the fruitfulness of many plants growing into one flower and sowing itself over the world in shapes of beauty and color, which differ… — Robert Aris Willmott Copy Share Image
Many books belong to sunshine, and should be read out of doors. Clover, violets, and hedge roses breathe from their leaves; they are most lovable in cool lanes, along field paths, or upon stiles overhung by hawthorn, while the blackbird… — Robert Aris Willmott Copy Share Image
In literature and art memory is a synonym for invention. It is the life-blood of imagination, which faints and dies when the veins are… — Robert Aris Willmott Copy Share Image
Poetical taste is the only magician whose wand is not broken. No hand, except its own, can dissolve the fabric of beauty in which… — Robert Aris Willmott Copy Share Image
Some gifted adventurer is always sailing round the world of art and science, to bring home costly merchandise from every port. — Robert Aris Willmott Copy Share Image
Taste is not stationary. It grows every day, and is improved by cultivation, as a good temper is refined by religion. In its most… — Robert Aris Willmott Copy Share Image
The gloomy recess of an ecclesiastical library is like a harbor, into which a far-traveling curiosity has sailed with its freight, and cast anchor.… — Robert Aris Willmott Copy Share Image
Romance is the truth of imagination and boyhood. Homer's horses clear the world at a bound. The child's eye needs no horizon to its… — Robert Aris Willmott Copy Share Image
The advice of a scholar, whose piles of learning were set on fire by imagination, is never to be forgotten. Proportion an hour's reflection… — Robert Aris Willmott Copy Share Image
The drama embraces and applies all the beauties and decorations of poetry. The sister arts attend and adorn it. Painting, architecture, and music are… — Robert Aris Willmott Copy Share Image
From numberless books the fluttering reader, idle and inconstant, bears away the bloom that only clings to the outer leaf; but genius has its… — Robert Aris Willmott Copy Share Image
