- A simple child, That lightly draws its breath, And feels its life in every limb, What should it know of death?

All men feel something of an honorable bigotry for the objects which have long continued to please them.

In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts Bring sad thoughts to the mind.

I have said that poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.

Life, like a child, laughs, shaking its rattle of death as it runs.

Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendia was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice. (p 1)

Little girls, like butterflies, need no excuse.