My Hair Is Grey, But Not With

If I Don't Write To Empty My Mind, I Go Mad.

He Who Surpasses Or Subdues Mankind, Must Look Down On The Hate Of Those Below.

Are Not The Mountains, Waves, And Skies As Much A Part Of Me, As I Of Them?

For A Man To Become A Poet (witness Petrarch And Dante), He Must Be In Love, Or Miserable.

It Is Not For Minds Like Ours To Give Or To Receive Flatter; Yet The Praises Of Sincerity Have Ever Been Permitted To The Voice Of Friendship