The Truth Dazzles Gradually, Or Else The

The Heart Asks Pleasure First, And Then, Excuse From Pain; And Then, Those Little Anodynes That Deaden Suffering; And Then, To Go To Sleep; And Then, If It Should Be The Will Of Its Inquisitor, The Liberty To Die.

A Word That Breathes Distinctly Has Not The Power To Die

Truth - Is As Old As God-.

Hope Is A Strange Invention - A Patent Of The Heart - In Unremitting Action Yet Never Wearing Out

Those Who Have Not Found The Heaven Below, Will Fail Of It Above.