What's Yours Is Mine And What's Mine

Ineluctable Modality Of The Visible; At Least That If No More, Thought Through My Eyes. Signatures Of All Things I Am Here To Read.

A Man Of Genius Makes No Mistakes; His Errors Are Volitional And Are The Portals Of Discovery.

Each Lost Soul Will Be A Hell Unto Itself, The Boundless Fire Raging In Its Very Vitals.

The Romantic Temper, So Often And So Grievously Misinterpreted And Not More By Others Than By Its Own, Is An Insecure, Unsatisfied, And Impatient Temper Which Sees No Fit Abode Here For Its Ideals And Chooses Therefore To Behold Them Under Insensible Figures. As A Result Of This Choice It Comes To Disregard Certain Limitations. Its Figures Are Blown To Wild Adventures, Lacking The Gravity Of Solid Bodies, And The Mind That Has Conceived Them Ends By Disowning Them.

Old Father, Old Artificer, Stand Me Now And Ever In Good Stead.