Percy Bysshe Shelley : (4)

" Music, when soft voices die Vibrates in the memory. " - Percy Bysshe Shelley

" Man’s yesterday may never be like his morrow; Nought may endure but Mutability. " - Percy Bysshe Shelley

" A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. " - Percy Bysshe Shelley

" We look before and after, And pine for what is not; Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought. " - Percy Bysshe Shelley