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“The radiance of which he speaks is the scholastic quidditas, the whatness of a thing. The supreme quality is felt by the artist when the esthetic image is first conceived in his imagination. The mind in that mysterious instant Shelley likened beautifully to a fading coal. The instant wherein that supreme quality of beauty, the clear radiance of the esthetic image, is apprehended luminously by the mind which has been arrested by its wholeness and fascinated by its harmony is the luminous silent stasis of esthetic pleasure, a spiritual state very like to that cardiac condition which the Italian physiologist, Luigi Galvani, using a phrase almost as beautiful as Shelley’s, called the enchantment of the heart.”
― James Joyce

“Love withers under constraints. Its very essence is liberty; it is comparable neither with obedience, jealousy, nor fear; it is there most pure, perfect, and unlimited where its votaries are in confidence, equality and unreserve.”
― Percy Bysshe Shelley

“He [Shelley] told me that he had had many visions lately; he had seen the figure of himself, which met him as he walked on the terrace and said to him, 'How long do you mean to be content?”
― Mary Shelley

“Ze pakte het volgende boek, schudde ermee om te zien of er een briefje in zat en sloeg het open. Trelawny’s herinneringen aan Byron en Shelley.
Ze sloeg het open en begon te lezen (want het was geen heilig exemplaar, geen zeldzaamheid, maar gedateerd Londen, 1932). Trelawny? De man die het lichaam van Shelley had verbrand en het hart had bewaard. Ja, die Trelawny. De piraat. Een reus. Ging na de dood van Shelley met Byron naar Griekenland.”
― Marian Engel, Bear