It Was The Secrets Of Heaven And

Invention, It Must Be Humbly Admitted, Does Not Consist In Creating Out Of A Void, But Out Of Chaos; The Materials Must In The First Place Be Afforded; It Can Give Form To Dark, Shapeless Substances, But Cannot Bring Into Being The Substance Itself.

None But Those Who Have Experienced Them Can Conceive Of The Enticements Of Science.

The Agony Of My Feelings Allowed Me No Respite; No Incident Occurred From Which My Rage And Misery Could Not Extract Its Food.

What Is There So Fearful As The Expectation Of Evil Tidings Delayed? ... Misery Is A More Welcome Visitant When She Comes In Her Darkest Guise And Wraps Us In Perpetual Black, For Then The Heart No Longer Sickens With Disappointed Hope.

But He Found That A Traveller's Life Is One That Includes Much Pain Amidst Its Enjoyments. His Feelings Are For Ever On The Stretch; And When He Begins To Sink Into Repose, He Finds Himself Obliged To Quit That On Which He Rests In Pleasure For Something New, Which Again Engages His Attention, And Which Also He Forsakes For Other Novelties.