How Frugal Is The Chariot That Bears

If I Feel Physically As If The Top Of My Head Were Taken Off, I Know That Is Poetry.

The Soul Selects Her Own Society, Then Shuts The Door; On Her Divine Majority Obtrude No More.

The Spirit Lurks Within The Flesh Like Tides Within The Sea That Make The Water Live, Estranged What Would The Either Be?

Much Madness Is Divinest Sense, To A Discerning Eye.

Fame Is A Bee It Has A Song - It Has A Sting - Ah, Too, It Has A Wing.