"Books are the bees which carry the quickening pollen from one to another mind."
"It is only the intellect that can be thoroughly and hideously wicked. It can forget everything in the attainment of its ends. The heart recoils; in its retired some drops of childhood's dew still linger, defying manhood's fiery noon."
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Source: James Russell Lowell (1845). “Conversations on Some of the Old Poets”, p.141
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