Are There No Prisons?

What Connexion Can There Be, Between The Place In Lincolnshire, The House In Town, The Mercury In Powder, And The Whereabout Of Jo The Outlaw With The Broom, Who Had That Distant Ray Of Light Upon Him When He Swept The Churchyard-step? What Connexion Can There Have Been Between Many People In The Innumerable Histories Of This World, Who, From Opposite Sides Of Great Gulfs, Have, Nevertheless, Been Very Curiously Brought Together!

Never Imitate The Eccentricities Of Genius, But Toil After It In Its Truer Flights. They Are Not So Easy To Follow, But They Lead To Higher Regions.

The Evening Wind Made Such A Disturbance Just Now, Among Some Tall Old Elm-trees At The Bottom Of The Garden, That Neither My Mother Nor Miss Betsey Could Forbear Glancing That Way. As The Elms Bent To One Another, Like Giants Who Were Whispering Secrets, And After A Few Seconds Of Such Repose, Fell Into A Violent Flurry, Tossing Their Wild Arms About, As If Their Late Confidences Were Really Too Wicked For Their Peace Of Mind.

Constancy In Love Is A Good Thing; But It Means Nothing, And Is Nothing, Without Constancy In Every Kind Of Effort.

We Changed Again, And Yet Again, And It Was Now Too Late And Too Far To Go Back, And I Went On. And The Mists Had All Solemnly Risen Now, And The World Lay Spread Before Me.