One Lives But Once In The World.

What Is The Destiny Of Man, But To Fill Up The Measure Of His Sufferings, And To Drink His Allotted Cup Of Bitterness?

The Question "from Where Does The Poet Get It?" Addresses Only The What, Nobody Learns Anything About The How When Asking That Question.

Nothing Should Be Valued Higher Than The Value Of The Day.

Ah! My Poor Brain Is Racked And Crazed, My Spirit And Senses Amazed!

A Useless Life Is An Early Death.