The Will Is Always Near, Dear, Though

I Dwell In Possibility.

A Word That Breathes Distinctly Has Not The Power To Die

Two Seasons, It Is Said, Exist- The Summer Of The Just, And This Of Ours, Diversified With Prospect, And With Frost- May Not Our Second With Its First So Infinite Compare That We But Recollect The One The Other To Prefer?

The Truth Dazzles Gradually, Or Else The World Would Be Blind.

Witchcraft Was Hung, In History, But History And I Find All The Witchcraft That We Need Around Us, Every Day -