Nuns fret not at their convent’s narrow room; And hermits are contented with their cells. — William Wordsworth
……….books are yours, Within whose silent chambers treasure lies Preserved from age — William Wordsworth
How does the meadow flower its bloom unfold? because the lovely little flower is free down to its root — William Wordsworth
One impulse from a vernal wood may teach you more of man, of moral evil and of good, than all the sages can. — William Wordsworth
Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility. — William Wordsworth
Rapine, avarice, expense, this is idolatry; and these we adore; plain living and high thinking are no more. — William Wordsworth
That best portion of a man’s life, his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love. — William Wordsworth
The best portion of a good man’s life is his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love. — William Wordsworth
The human mind is capable of excitement without the application of gross and violent stimulants; — William Wordsworth