"I suppose that I am a very serious poet – except for satirical verse, which I have also been compelled to write, though much of it may be inferior to my more serious poems – perhaps because I am not playful enough by nature, and even my satirical or polemical verse is not entertaining."

"He was out of tune with what a younger generation of poets were writing, and railed against the shallowness and commercialisation of the modern world, from his fastness: a farmhouse surrounded by orchards in Middleton, Suffolk."

"Translation came naturally to me because as a child I was translated from Germany to Britain."

"Obituary in The Guardian"

"The world's as ugly, ay, as Sin,— And almost as delightful."

"Lightly I sped when hope was high And youth beguiled the chase,— I follow, follow still: But I Shall never see her face."

"And this was your Cradle? Why, surely, my Jenny, Such cozy dimensions go clearly to show You were an exceedingly small pickaninny, Some nineteen or twenty short summers ago."

"A voluminous, prosaick, and drivelling Monk."

""Vanitas vanitatum" has rung in the ears Of gentle and simple for thousands of years; The wail still is heard, yet its notes never scare Either simple or gentle from Vanity Fair."

"What an arm—what a waist For an arm!"

"He is the first of our writers whose style is cloathed with that perspicuity, in which the English phraseology appears at this day to an English reader…Whether his subject be the life of a hermit or a hero, of saint Austin or Guy earl of Warwick, ludicrous or legendary, religious or romantic, a history or an allegory, he writes with facility."

"For hit ys oft seyde by hem that yet lyues He must nedys go that the deuell dryues."

"The wheel of Fortune tourneth as a ball; Sodeyn clymbyng axeth a sodeyn fall."

"Also Johnn Lydgate Wryteth after an hyer rate; It is dyffuse to fynde The sentence of his mynde, Yet wryteth he in his kynd, No man that can amend Those maters that he hath pende; Yet some men fynde a faute, And say he wryteth too haute."

"For princis ofte, of furious hastynesse, Wil cachche a quarrel, causeless in sentence, Ageyn folk absent, thouh ther be non offence."

"He as a kyng is crowned in Fairie, With sceptre and suerd, & with his regalie Shal resorte as lord and souereyne, Out of Fairye & regne in Breteyne, And repaire ageyn the Rounde Table."

"Comparable with Chawcer, yet more occupyed in supersticious and odde matters than was requesite in so good a wytte."

"In images of horror, and in a certain terrible greatness, our author comes far behind Chaucer. Whether they were not suited to the genius or the temper of Lydgate, I do not determine; but it is certain that, though they naturally seemed to present themselves, he has almost generally chose to avoid them: yet is there frequently a stiller kind of majesty both in his thought and expression, which makes one of his principal beauties."

"Trouthe wil out maugre of fals enuye, Rihtwysnesse may nat ben hid certeyn, As for a tyme it may been ovirleyn."

"For a story which is nat pleynli told, But constreynyd undir woordes fewe For lak off trouthe, wher thei be newe or olde, Men bi report kan nat the mater shewe."

"Off oure language he was the lodesterre."

"There is no rose Spryngyng in gardeyns, but ther be sum thorn."

"Woord is but wynd; leff woord and tak the dede."

"For love is mor than gold or gret richesse; Gold faileth ofte; love wol abyde."

"A prowde hert in a beggers brest, A fowle visage with gay temples of atyre, Horrible othes with an holy prist, A justice of juges to selle and lete to hyre, A knave to comande and have an empire, To yeve a jugement of that never was wrought, To preche of pees and sette eche man on fyre, It may wele ryme but it accordith nought."

"All is not golde that outward shewith bright."

"A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis."

"I loved you ere I knew you: know you now, And, having known you, love you better still."

"O be very sure That no man will learn anything at all, Unless he first will learn humility."

"Genius does what it must, and Talent does what it can."

"But, however we pass Time, he passes still, Passing away whatever the pastime, And, whether we use him well or ill, Some day he gives us the slip for the last time."

"Who seeks for aid Must show how service sought can be repaid."

"That man is great, and he alone, Who serves a greatness not his own."

"Unseen hands delay The coming of what seems close in ken, And, contrary, the moment when we say "'Twill never come!" comes on us even then."

"No star ever rose And set, without influence somewhere."

"Life is good; but not life in itself."

"Who knows nothing base Fears nothing known."

"No life Can be pure in its purpose and strong in its strife And all life not be purer and stronger thereby."

"The ages roll Forward; and, forward with them, draw my soul Into Time’s infinite sea. And to be glad or sad I care no more: But to have done, and to have been, before I cease to do and be!"

"A night of tears! for the gusty rain Had ceased, but the eaves were dripping yet; And the moon look'd forth, as tho' in pain, With her face al white and wet."

"Who lesethe his fredam, in faith! he loseth all."

"For he owre englishe gilte with his sawes, Rude and boistous firste be olde dawes, That was ful fer from al perfeccioun And but of litel reputacioun Til that he cam, and thorugh his poetrie, Gan oure tonge firste to magnifie And adourne it with his eloquence: To whom honour, laude and reuerence."

"There is purpose in pain, Otherwise it were devilish."

"We are our own fates. Our deeds Are our doomsmen. Man's life was made not for men's creeds, But men's actions."

"Life hath set No landmarks before us."

"In life there are meetings which seem Like a fate."

"Alas! must it be ever so? Do we stand in our own light, wherever we go, And fight our own shadows forever?"

"Thought alone is eternal."

"To all facts there are laws. The effect has its cause, and I mount to the cause."

"No true love can be without Its dread penalty—jealousy."