Men Of Genius Are Often Dull And

Labor With What Zeal We Will, Something Still Remains Undone, Something Uncompleted Still Waits The Rising Of The Sun.

The Highest Exercise Of Imagination Is Not To Devise What Has No Existence, But Rather To Perceive What Really Exists, Though Unseen By The Outward Eye-not Creation, But Insight.

The Tide Rises, The Tide Falls, The Twilight Darkens, The Curlew Calls; The Little Waves, With Their Soft, White Hands, Efface The Footprints In The Sands, And The Tide Rises, The Tide Falls.

The Prayer Of Ajax Was For Light.

Wondrous Strong Are The Spells Of Fiction.