Stay True To The Dreams Of Thy

Our Souls Are Like Those Orphans Whose Unwedded Mothers Die In Bearing Them: The Secret Of Our Paternity Lies In Their Grave, And We Must There To Learn It.

One Would Like To Know, What Were Foes Made For Except To Be Used?

Is There Some Principal Of Nature Which States That We Never Know The Quality Of What We Have Until It Is Gone?

There Are Hardly Five Critics In America; And Several Of Them Are Asleep.

The Profound Calm Which Only Apparently Precedes And Prophesies Of The Storm, Is Perhaps More Awful Than The Storm Itself; For Indeed, The Calm Is But The Wrapper And Envelop Of The Storm, And Contains It In Itself, As The Seemingly Harmless Rifle Holds The Fatal Powder, And The Ball, And The Explosion.