Praises of the unworthy are felt by ardent minds as robberies of the deserving. - Samuel Taylor Coleridge

They parted — ne'er to meet again!
But never either found another
To free the hollow heart from paining — They stood aloof, the scars remaining,
Like cliffs which had been rent asunder;
A dreary sea now flows between; — But neither heat, nor frost, nor thunder,
Shall wholly do away, I ween,
The marks of that which once hath been.

To see him act is like reading Shakespeare by flashes of lightning.

Truth I pursued,as Fancy sketch'd the way,
And wiser men than I went worse astray.