The Cool Peace And Dewy Sweetness Of

I Tired Of The Routine Of Eight Years In One Afternoon.

The Human Heart Has Hidden Treasures, In Secret Kept, In Silence Sealed; The Thoughts, The Hopes, The Dreams, The Pleasures, Whose Charms Were Broken If Revealed.

Your Station Is In My Heart, And On The Necks Of Those Who Would Insult You.

I Was No Pope - I Could Not Boast Infallibility.

Jane, My Little Darling (so I Will Call You, For So You Are), You Don't Know What You Are Talking About; You Misjudge Me Again: It Is Not Because She Is Mad I Hate Her. If You Were Mad, Do You Think I Should Hate You?