Lord Of Himself; That Heritage Of Woe!

I Slept And Dreamt That Life Was Beauty; I Woke And Found That Life Was Duty.

This Is To Be Along; This, This Is Solitude!

Nothing So Fretful, So Despicable As A Scribbler, See What I Am, And What A Parcel Of Scoundrels I Have Brought About My Ears, And What Language I Have Been Obliged To Treat Them With To Deal With Them In Their Own Way; - All This Comes Of Authorship.

To Have Joy, One Must Share It.

Out Of Chaos God Made A World, And Out Of High Passions Comes A People.