If You Will Comply With My Conditions,

The Labours Of Men Of Genius, However Erroneously Directed, Scarcely Ever Fail In Ultimately Turning To The Solid Advantage Of Mankind.

My Heart Was Fashioned To Be Susceptible Of Love And Sympathy, And When Wrenched By Misery To Vice And Hatred, It Did Not Endure The Violence Of The Change Without Torture Such As You Cannot Even Imagine.

How Mutable Are Our Feelings, And How Strange Is That Clinging Love We Have Of Life Even In The Excess Of Misery!

It Is True, We Shall Be Monsters, Cut Off From All The World; But On That Account We Shall Be More Attached To One Another.

I Also Became A Poet, And For One Year Lived In A Paradise Of My Own Creation; I Imagined That I Also Might Obtain A Niche In The Temple Where The Names Of Homer And Shakespeare Are Consecrated.