Look, Then, Into Thine Heart, And Write!

To Charm, To Strengthen, And To Teach: These Are The Three Great Chords Of Might.

No Action, Whether Foul Or Fair, Is Ever Done, But It Leaves Somewhere A Record, Written By Fingers Ghostly, As A Blessing Or A Curse, And Mostly In The Greater Weakness Or Greater Strength Of The Acts Which Follow It.

And The Wind Plays On Those Great Sonorous Harps, The Shrouds And Masts Of Ships.

The Soul...is Audible, Not Visible.

The Helicon Of Too Many Poets Is Not A Hill Crowned With Sunshine And Visited By The Muses And The Graces, But An Old, Mouldering House, Full Of Gloom And Haunted By Ghosts.