Fear Gives Sudden Instincts Of Skill.

Trochee Trips From Long To Short; From Long To Long In Solemn Sort Slow Spondee Stalks.

Brute Animals Have The Vowel Sounds; Man Only Can Utter Consonants.

An Undevout Poet Is An Impossibility.

I Am Never Very Forward In Offering Spiritual Consolation To Any One In Distress Or Disease. I Believe That Such Resources, To Be Of Any Service, Must Be Self-evolved In The First Instance. I Am Something Of The Quaker's Mind In This, And Am Inclined To Wait For The Spirit.

My Eyes Make Pictures When They Are Shut.