My top three at the moment

1)
This is the hour of lead
Remembered if outlived,
As freezing persons recollect the snow--
First chill, then stupor, then the letting go. (Mily Dickinson)

2) To Tess, as to not too many millions of others, there was bitter irony in the poet's words - not in utter nakedness, but trailing clouds of glory do we come. (Tommy Hardy)

3) In the end, the soul is alone, brooding like a black gull on the face of the uncreated flux. (Dave Lawrence)