Few Sometimes May Know, When Thousands Err.

Above The Smoke And Stir Of This Dim Spot Which Men Call Earth.

Innocence, Once Lost, Can Never Be Regained. Darkness, Once Gazed Upon, Can Never Be Lost.

Me Miserable! Which Way Shall I Fly Infinite Wrath And Infinite Despair? Which Way I Fly Is Hell; Myself Am Hell; And In The Lowest Deep A Lower Deep, Still Threat'ning To Devour Me, Opens Wide, To Which The Hell I Suffer Seems A Heaven.

None Can Love Freedom Heartily, But Good Men; The Rest Love Not Freedom, But License.

And Live Like Nature's Bastards, Not Her Sons.