We Cannot Reform Our Forefathers.

No Anguish I Have Had To Bear On Your Account Has Been Too Heavy A Price To Pay For The New Life Into Which I Have Entered In Loving You.

The Desire To Conquer Is Itself A Sort Of Subjection.

Mysterious Haunts Of Echoes Old And Far, The Voice Divine Of Human Loyalty.

In Travelling I Shape Myself Betimes To Idleness And Take Fools' Pleasure

A Fine Lady Is A Squirrel-headed Thing, With Small Airs And Small Notions; About As Applicable To The Business Of Life As A Pair Of Tweezers To The Clearing Of A Forest.