Memory Is A Strange Bell—jubilee, And Knell.

The Heart Asks Pleasure First, And Then, Excuse From Pain; And Then, Those Little Anodynes That Deaden Suffering; And Then, To Go To Sleep; And Then, If It Should Be The Will Of Its Inquisitor, The Liberty To Die.

Tell All The Truth But Tell It Slant-- Success In Circuit Lies Too Bright For Our Infirm Delight The Truth's Superb Surprise As Lightning To The Children Eased With Explanation Kind The Truth Must Dazzle Gradually Or Every Man Be Blind--

I Think Heaven Will Not Be As Good As Earth, Unless It Bring With It That Sweet Power To Remember, Which Is The Staple Of Heaven Here.

To Lose Ones Faith-surpass The Loss Of An Estate- Because Estates Can Be Replenished- Faith Cannot-.

The Soul Selects Her Own Society, Then Shuts The Door; On Her Divine Majority Obtrude No More.