Marina

“There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight
To me did seem
Apparelled in celestial light,
The glory and the freshness of a dream.
It is not now as it hath been of yore;—
Turn wheresoe’er I may,
By night or day,
The things which I have seen I now can see no more.


—But there’s a tree, of many, one,
A single field which I have look’d upon,
Both of them speak of something that is gone:
The pansy at my feet
Doth the same tale repeat:
Whither is fled the visionary gleam?
Where is it now, the glory and the dream?”
― William Wordsworth, Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood

“No, my heart is turn'd to stone: I strike it, and it hurts my hand.”
― William Shakespeare, Othello

“They say the owl was a baker's daughter. Lord, we know what we are, but know not what we may be.”
― William Shakespeare, Hamlet

“I flatter myself, at times, that though among them, I am not of them”
― Anne Brontë, The Tenant of Wildfell Hall