"Hark how the Trumpet, The mistress of mistresses, Calls, silver-throated And stern, where the tables Are spread, and the work Of the Lord is in hand! Driving the darkness, Even as the banners And spears of the Morning; Sifting the nations, The slag from the metal, The waste and the weak From the fit and the strong; Fighting the brute."

"Life is (I think) a blunder and a shame."

"Night with her train of stars And her great gift of sleep."

"Far in the stillness a cat Languishes loudly. A cinder Falls, and the shadows Lurch to the leap of the flame."

"Plainly Hugo was the greatest man of letters of his day. It has been given to few or none to live a life so full of effort and achievement, so rich in honour and success and fame. Born almost with the century, he was a writer at fifteen, and at his death he was writing still; so that the record of his career embraces a period of more than sixty years. There is hardly a department of art to a foremost place in which he did not prove his right. From first to last; from the time of Chateaubriand to the time of Zola, he was a leader of men; and with his departure from the scene the undivided sovereignty of literature became a thing of the past like Alexander's empire."

"So be my passing! My task accomplish'd and the long day done, My wages taken, and in my heart Some late lark singing, Let me be gather'd to the quiet west, The sundown splendid and serene, Death."

"Ho! then, the splendour And sheen of my ministry, Clothing the earth With a livery of lightnings! Ho! then, the music Of battles in onset And ruining armours, And God's gift returning In fury to God! Glittering and keen As the song of the winter stars, Ho! then, the sound Of my voice, the implacable Angel of Destiny!— I am the Sword."

"Or ever the knightly years were gone With the old world to the grave, I was a king in Babylon, And you were a Christian slave."

"Boy with the name and face I don't remember, you can stop shouting now, I can still hear you."

"Lifetimes went past. With the critical mass of hardly more than the thought of a thought I kept on, headlong, to vanishing point. I looked for an end, for some dimension to hold hard and resist. But I still exist."

"Think, two things on their own and both at once."

"In a life, most of us turn no more than 45 degrees. Not much compared to those who turn full-circle in the slighest breeze or those who totally uncoil, but enough in the end to tell a bag of diamonds from a sack of coal."

"Right here you made an angel of yourself, free-falling backwards into last night's snow, indenting a straight, neat, crucified shape, then flapping your arms, one stroke, a great bird, to leave the impression of wings. It worked."

"Here's how they rated him when the looked back: sometimes he did this, sometimes he did that."

"I've made out a will: I'm leaving myself to the National Health. I'm sure they can use the jellies and tubes and syrups and glues..."

"Ignite the flares, connect the phones, wind all the clocks; the sun goes rusty like a medal in its box - collect it from the loft. Peg out the stars, replace the bulbs of Jupiter and Mars. A man like that takes something with him when he dies, but he has wept the coins that rested on his eyes, eased out the stopper from the mouthpiece of the cave, exhumed his own white body from the grave."

"Mother, any distance greater than a single span requires a second pair of hands."

"That heart had been an apple once, they reckoned. Green. They had a scheme to plant an apple there again beginning with a pip, but he rejected it."

"it says NO NEWS IS GOOD NEWS but it don't say why."

"My party piece: I strike, then from the moment when the matchstick conjures up its light, to when the brightness moves beyond its means, and dies, I say the story of my life"

"We walk to the ward from the badly parked car with your grandma taking four short steps to our two. We have brought her here to die and we know it."

"All land lines are down. Reports of mobile phones are false. One half-excoriated Apple Mac still quotes the Dow Jones."

"Where does the hand become the wrist? where does the neck become the shoulder? The watershed and then the weight, whatever turns up and tips us over that razor's edge between something and nothing, between one and the other."

"Sure Beauty's empires, like to greater states, Have certain periods set, and hidden fates."

"O! for some honest lover's ghost, Some kind unbodied post Sent from the shades below! I strangely long to know, Whether the nobler chaplets wear, Those that their mistress' scorn did bear, Or those that were us'd kindly."

"If I a fancy take To black and blue, That fancy doth it beauty make."

"I thought to undermine the heart By whispering in the ear."

"'Tis now, since I sat down before That foolish fort, a heart, (Time strangely spent), a year and more, And still I did my part."

"Love is the fart Of every heart; It pains a man when 'tis kept close, And others doth offend when 'tis let loose."

"Out upon it! I have lov'd Three whole days together; And am like to love three more, If it prove fair weather.Time shall moult away his wings, Ere he shall discover In the whole wide world again Such a constant lover."

"Women enjoy'd (whate'er before th' have been) Are like romances read, or sights once seen: Fruition's dull, and spoils the play much more Than if one read or knew the plot before. 'Tis expectation makes a blessing dear; Heaven were not heaven, if we knew what it were."

"Just so, i' th' nick! i' th' very nick of time!"

"High characters (cries one); and he would see Things that ne'er were, nor are, nor ne'er will be."

"She's pretty to walk with, And witty to talk with, And pleasant, too, to think on."

"A health to the nut-brown lass, With the hazel eyes: let it pass. ... As much to the lively grey; 'Tis as good i' th' night as day."

"Her face is like the Milky Way i' the sky, A meeting of gentle lights without a name."

"They who know all the wealth they have, are poor; He's only rich that cannot tell his store."

"The Prince of Darkness is a gentleman: Mahu, Mahu is his name."

"Had it any been but she, And that very face, There had been at least ere this A dozen dozen in her place."

"Why so pale and wan, fond lover Prithee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail? Prithee, why so pale? ... Quit, quit, for shame, this will not move: This cannot take her. If of herself she cannot love, Nothing can make her: The devil take her!"

"Our sins, like to our shadows, When our day is in its glory, scarce appear: Towards our evening how great and monstrous They are!"

"I prithee send me back my heart, Since I cannot have thine; For if from yours you will not part, Why then shouldst thou have mine?"

"But, as when an authentic watch is shown, Each man winds up and rectifies his own; So in our very judgments."

"The maid—and thereby hangs a tale; For such a maid no Whitson-ale Could ever yet produce: No grape, that’s kindly ripe, could be So round, so plump, so soft as she, Nor half so full of juice."

"Her feet beneath her petticoat, Like little mice, stole in and out, As if they fear'd the light: But O, she dances such a way! No sun upon an Easter-day Is half so fine a sight."

"But love is such a mystery, I cannot find it out; For when I think I'm best resolv'd, I then am most in doubt."

"Her cheeks so rare a white was on, No daisy makes comparison (Who sees them is undone); For streaks of red were mingled there, Such as are on a Catherine pear (The side that's next the sun)."

"She's a savour to the glass, An excuse to make it pass."

"Her lips were red; and one was thin, Compar'd to that was next her chin (Some bee had stung it newly)."

"In night when colours all to black are cast, Distinction lost, or gone down with the light; The eye — a watch to inward senses placed, Not seeing, yet still having power of sight — Gives vain alarums to the inward sense."