...for Her Whom In Life Thou Dids't

I Felt That I Breathed An Atmosphere Of Sorrow.

If We Cannot Comprehend God In His Visible Works, How Then In His Inconceivable Thoughts, That Call The Works Into Being?

Quaff, Oh Quaff This Kind Nepenthe, And Forget This Lost Lenore!

The Past Is A Pebble In My Shoe.

One Half Of The Pleasure Experienced At A Theatre Arises From The Spectator's Sympathy With The Rest Of The Audience, And, Especially From His Belief In Their Sympathy With Him.