Praise or blame has but a momentary effect on the man whose love of beauty in the abstract makes him a severe critic on his own works. - John Keats

With duller steel than the Perséan sword
They cut away no formless monster's head,
But one, whose gentleness did well accord
With death, as life. The ancient harps have said,
Love never dies, but lives, immortal Lord:
If Love impersonate was ever dead,
Pale Isabella kiss'd it, and low moan'd.
'Twas love; cold, — dead indeed, but not dethroned.

A poet is the most unpoetical of anything in existence; because he has no identity — he is continually informing — and filling some other body.

'Tis the pest
Of love, that fairest joys give most unrest.