Preserve, Within A Wild Sanctuary, An Inaccessible

Surely One Of The Peculiar Habits Of Circumstances Is The Way They Follow, In Their Eternal Recurrence, A Single Course. If An Event Happens Once In A Life, It May Be Depended Upon To Repeat Later Its General Design.

It Seems To Me That This Is The True Test For Poetry: - That It Should Go Beneath Experience, As Prose Can Never Do, And Awaken An Apprehension Of Things We Have Never, And Can Never, Know In The Actuality.

I Have Written Chiefly Because, Though I Have Often Dreaded The Necessity, I Have Found It More Painful, In The End, Not To Write.

There Are Times When Life Surprises One, And Anything May Happen, Even What One Had Hoped For.

Dignity Is An Anachronism.