“We look before and after, And pine for what is not: Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell Of saddest thought. Yet if we could scorn Hate, and pride, and fear; If… — Percy Bysshe Shelley Copy Share Image
“What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain? What fields, or waves, or mountains? What shapes of sky or plain? What love of thine own kind? What ignorance of pain?” — Percy Bysshe Shelley Copy Share Image
