Roll On, Thou Deep And Dark Blue

It Is Very Iniquitous To Make Me Pay My Debts - You Have No Idea Of The Pain It Gives One.

I Only Know We Loved In Vain; I Only Feel-farewell! Farewell!

Death, So Called, Is A Thing Which Makes Men Weep, And Yet A Third Of Life Is Passed In Sleep.

There Is No Passion, More Spectral Or Fantastical Than Hate, Not Even Its Opposite, Love, So Peoples Air, With Phantoms, As This Madness Of The Heart.

A Thirst For Gold, The Beggar's Vice, Which Can But Overwhelm The Meanest Hearts.