We Are Fashioned Creatures, But Half Made

Sorrow Only Increased With Knowledge.

Oh! Grief Is Fantastic; It Weaves A Web On Which To Trace The History Of Its Woe From Every Form And Change Around; It Incorporates Itself With All Living Nature; It Finds Sustenance In Every Object; As Light, It Fills All Things, And, Like Light, It Gives Its Own Colors To All.

The Whole Series Of My Life Appeared To Me As A Dream; I Sometimes Doubted If Indeed It Were All True, For It Never Presented Itself To My Mind With The Force Of Reality.

I Feel Exquisite Pleasure In Dwelling On The Recollections Of Childhood, Before Misfortune Had Tainted My Mind, And Changed Its Bright Visions Of Extensive Usefulness Into Gloomy And Narrow Reflections Upon Self.

His Conversation Was Marked By Its Happy Abundance.