Quaff, Oh Quaff This Kind Nepenthe, And

If You Are Ever Drowned Or Hung, Be Sure And Make A Note Of Your Sensations.

The Eye, Like A Shattered Mirror, Multiplies The Images Of Sorrow

Me Volví Loco, Con Largos Intervalos De Horrible Cordura.

As An Individual, I Myself Feel Impelled To Fancy ... A Limitless Succession Of Universes.... Each Exists, Apart And Independently, In The Bosom Of Its Proper And Particular God.

As A Viewed Myself In A Fragment Of Looking-glass..., I Was So Impressed With A Sense Of Vague Awe At My Appearance ... That I Was Seized With A Violent Tremour.