I Was Not Born To Amuse The

Mistress-like, Its Brilliance Vain, Highly Capricious And Inane.

I’ve Lived To Bury My Desires, And See My Dreams Corrode With Rust; Now All That’s Left Are Fruitless Fires That Burn My Empty Heart To Dust.

Habit Is Heaven's Own Redress: It Takes The Place Of Happiness.

Moral Maxims Are Surprisingly Useful On Occasions When We Can Invent Little Else To Justify Our Actions.

I Loved You: And, It May Be, From My Soul The Former Love Has Never Gone Away, But Let It Not Recall To You My Dole; I Wish Not Sadden You In Any Way. I Loved You Silently, Without Hope, Fully, In Diffidence, In Jealousy, In Pain; I Loved You So Tenderly And Truly, As Let You Else Be Loved By Any Man.