Good Reading Makes For Damn Hard Writing.

Soft Pity Never Leaves The Gentle Breast Where Love Has Been Received A Welcome Guest.

Easy Writings Curse Is Hard Reading.

I Loved Him For Himself Alone.

I Ne'er Could Any Lustre See In Eyes That Would Not Look On Me; I Ne'er Saw Nectar On A Lip But Where My Own Did Hope To Sip.

When Delicate And Feeling Souls Are Separated, There Is Not A Feature In The Sky, Not A Movement Of The Elements, Not An Aspiration Of The Breeze, But Hints Some Cause For A Lover's Apprehension.