Necessity, Thou Mother Of The World!

All High Poetry Is Infinite; It Is As The First Acorn, Which Contained All Oaks Potentially.

Until The Mind Can Love, And Admire, And Trust, And Hope, And Endure, Reasoned Principles Of Moral Conduct Are Seeds Cast Upon The Highway Of Life Which The Unconscious Passenger Tramples Into Dust.

Whence Are We, And Why Are We? Of What Scene The Actors Or Spectators?

A Poet Is A Nightingale, Who Sits In Darkness And Sings To Cheer Its Own Solitude With Sweet Sounds.

Soul Meets Soul On Lovers' Lips.