The Art Of Poetry Consists In Taking

I Have Done Many Impious Things--no Great Ruler Can Do Otherwise. I Have Put The Good Of The Empire Before All Human Considerations. To Keep The Empire Free From Factions I Have Had To Commit Many Crimes.

This Seems To Me A Philosophical Question, And Therefore Irrelevant, Question. A Poet's Destiny Is To Love.

Where Nature With Accustomed Round Sweeps And Garnishes The Ground With Kindly Beauty, Warm Or Cold Alternate Seasons Never Old: Heathen, How Furiously You Rage, Cursing This Blood And Brimstone Age, How Furiously Against Your Will You Kill And Kill Again, And Kill: All Thought Of Peace Behind You Cast, Till Like Small Boys With Fear Aghast, Each Cries For God To Understand, 'i Could Not Help It, It Was My Hand.

The Gift Of Independence Once Granted Cannot Be Lightly Taken Away Again.

If I Were A Young Man With My Bones Full Of Marrow, Oh, If I Were A Bold Young Man Straight As An Arrow, I'd Store Up No Virtue For Heaven's Distant Plain, I'd Live At Ease As I Did Please And Sin Once Again.