Time Is Lord Of Thee: Thy Wealth,

The Waste Of Plenty Is The Resource Of Scarcity.

Clouds On Clouds, In Volumes Driven, Curtain Round The Vault Of Heaven.

I Like The Immaterial World. I Like To Live Among Thoughts And Images Of The Past And The Possible, And Even Of The Impossible, Now And Then.

Laughter Ispleasant, Butthe Exertion Istoomuchfor Me.

The Critic Does His Utmost To Blight Genius In Its Infancy; That Which Rises In Spite Of Him He Will Not See; And Then He Complains Of The Decline Of Literature.