Rage Is Essentially Vulgar.

Plagiarists Are Always Suspicious Of Being Stolen From.

Nothing Is As Contagious As Enthusiasm. It Is The Real Allegory Of The Myth Of Orpheus; It Moves Stones, And Charms Brutes. It Is The Genius Of Sincerity, And Truth Accomplishes No Victories Without It.

He Knows Well The Evening Star, And Once When He Awoke, In A Most Distressful Mood (some Inward Pain Had Made Up That Strange Thing, An Infant's Dream), I Hurried With Him To Our Orchard Plot, And He Beheld The Moon, And Hushed At Once. Suspends His Sobs And Laughs Most Silently. While His Fair Eyes, That Swam With Undropped Tears, Did Glitter In The Yellow Moonbeam.

Iambics March From Short To Long;-- With A Leap And A Bound The Swift Anapaests Throng

Finally, Good Sense Is The Body Of Poetic Genius, Fancy Its Drapery, Motion Its Life, And Imagination The Soul That Is Everywhere And In Each; And Forms All Into One Graceful And Intelligent Whole.