There Is No Wretchedness Like Self-reproach.

So Much To Win, So Much To Lose, No Marvel That I Fear To Choose.

I Hate The Word 'ought' - It Always Implies Something Dull, Cold, And Commonplace. The 'ought Nots' Of Life Are Its Pleasantest Things.

Delicious Tears! The Heart's Own Dew.

Farewell's A Bitter Word To Say.

Words Alike Make The Destiny Of Empires And Of Individuals. Ambition, Love, Hate, Interest, Vanity, Have Words For Their Engines, And Need None More Powerful. Language Is A Fifth Element - The One By Which All The Others Are Swayed.