Better The Illusions That Exalt Us Than

My Dreams, My Dreams! What Has Become Of Their Sweetness? What Indeed Has Become Of My Youth?

It Is Better To Have Dreamed A Thousand Dreams That Never Were Than Never To Have Dreamed At All.

Two Fixed Ideas Can No More Exist Together In The Moral World Than Two Bodies Can Occupy One And The Same Place In The Physical World.

I Have Outlasted All Desire, My Dreams And I Have Grown Apart; My Grief Alone Is Left Entire, The Gleamings Of An Empty Heart. The Storms Of Ruthless Dispensation Have Struck My Flowery Garland Numb, I Live In Lonely Desolation And Wonder When My End Will Come. Thus On A Naked Tree-limb, Blasted By Tardy Winter's Whistling Chill, A Single Leaf Which Has Outlasted Its Season Will Be Trembling Still.

A Deception That Elevates Us Is Dearer Than A Host Of Low Truths.