Each Man Has His Own Desires; All

Is Any Man Free Except The One Who Can Pass His Life As He Pleases?

Nothing Can Be Born Of Nothing; Nothing Can Be Resolved Into Nothing.

Indulge, And To Thy Genius Freely Give, For Not To Live At Ease Is Not To Live.

Oh, What A Void There Is In Things.

Lives There The Man With Soul So Dead As To Disown The Wish To Merit The People's Applause, And Having Uttered Words Worthy To Be Kept In Cedar Oil To Latest Times, To Leave Behind Him Rhymes That Dread Neither Herrings Nor Frankincense.