#which

Nothing contributes so much to tranquilize the mind as a steady purpose - a point on which the soul may fix its intellectual eye. ↗

— Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley

#eye #fix #intellectual #may #mind

The agony of my feelings allowed me no respite; no incident occurred from which my rage and misery could not extract its food. ↗

— Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley

#allowed #could #extract #feelings #food

And now, once again, I bid my hideous progeny go forth and prosper. I have an affection for it, for it was the offspring of happy days, when death and grief were but words, which found no true echo in my heart. ↗

— Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley

#again #bid #days #death #echo

The same energy of character which renders a man a daring villain would have rendered him useful in society, had that society been well organized. ↗

— Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley

#character #daring #energy #had #him

What terrified me will terrify others; and I need only describe the spectre which had haunted my midnight pillow. ↗

— Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley

#had #haunted #i #me #midnight

There is a harmony in autumn, and a luster in its sky, which through the summer is not heard or seen, as if it could not be, as if it had not been! ↗

— Percy Bysshe Shelley

#been #could #had #harmony #heard

Poetry is a mirror which makes beautiful that which is distorted. ↗

— Percy Bysshe Shelley

#beautiful #distorted #makes #mirror #which

Death is the veil which those who live call life; They sleep, and it is lifted. ↗

— Percy Bysshe Shelley

#death #life #lifted #live #sleep

I think that the leaf of a tree, the meanest insect on which we trample, are in themselves arguments more conclusive than any which can be adduced that some vast intellect animates Infinity. ↗

— Percy Bysshe Shelley

#any #conclusive #i #i think #infinity

Poetry is a sword of lightning, ever unsheathed, which consumes the scabbard that would contain it. ↗

— Percy Bysshe Shelley

#contain #ever #lightning #poetry #sword