Sing It Not In Mournful Numbers.

Such Is The Frailty Of Man That Even Where He Makes The Truest And Most Forcible Impression In The Memory, In The Heart Of His Beloved, There Also He Must Perish.

It Is Natural To Man To Regard Himself As The Object Of The Creation, And To Think Of All Things In Relation To Himself, And The Degree In Which They Can Serve And Be Useful To Him.

Certain Books Seem To Be Written, Not That We Might Learn From Them, But In Order That We Might See How Much The Author Knows.

I Had Toward The Poetic Art A Peculiar Relation Which Was Only Practical After I Had Cherished In My Mind For A Long Time A Subject Which Possessed Me, A Model Which Inspired Me, A Predecessor Who Attracted Me, Until At Length, After I Had Molded It

Were The Eye Not Of The Sun, How Could We Behold The Light? If God's Might And Ours Were Not As One, How Could His Work Enchant Our Sight?