There's Folks 'ud Stand On Their Heads

There's No Disappointment In Memory, And One's Exaggerations Are Always On The Good Side.

How Should All The Apparatus Of Heaven And Earth Make Poetry For A Mind That Had No Movements Of Awe And Tenderness, No Sense Of Fellowship Which Thrills From The Near To The Distant, And Back Again From The Distant To The Near?

Vague Memories Hang About The Mind Like Cobwebs.

Trouble Always Seems Heavier When It Is Only One's Thought And Not One's Bodily Activity That Is Employed About It.

A Blush Is No Language; Only A Dubious Flag - Signal Which May Mean Either Of Two Contradictories