Fun I Love, But Too Much Fun

The Fox Condemns The Trap, Not Himself.

How Have You Left The Ancient Love That Bards Of Old Enjoyed In You! The Languid Strings Do Scarcely Move! The Sound Is Forced, The Notes Are Few!

Embraces Are Comminglings From The Head Even To The Feet, And Not A Pompous High Priest Entering By A Secret Place.

Without Minute Neatness Of Execution, The Sublime Cannot Exist! Grandeur Of Ideas Is Founded On Precision Of Ideas.

There Is A Smile Of Love, And There Is A Smile Of Deceit, And There Is A Smile Of Smiles In Which These Two Smiles Meet.