Greatness Is Its Own Torment.

Love Is The Piety Of The Affections.

I Do Not Pretend To Understand The Moral Universe; The Arc Is A Long One, My Eye Reaches But Little Ways; I Cannot Calculate The Curve And Complete The Figure By The Experience Of Sight, I Can Divine It By Conscience. And From What I See I Am Sure It Bends Towards Justice.

Love Of Truth Will Bless The Lover All His Days; Yet When He Brings Her Home, His Fair-faced Bride, She Comes Empty-handed To His Door, Herself Her Only Dower.

All Men Desire To Be Immortal.

You May Not, Cannot, Appropriate Beauty. It Is The Wealth Of The Eye, And A Cat May Gaze Upon A King.