When Falsehood Can Look So Like The

I Am Alone And Miserable. Only Someone As Ugly As I Am Could Love Me.

But Success Shall Crown My Endeavours. Wherefore Not? Thus Far I Have Gone, Tracking A Secure Way Over The Pathless Seas: The Very Stars Themselves Being Witnesses And Testimonies Of My Triumph. Why Not Still Proceed Over The Untamed Yet Obedient Element? What Can Stop The Determined Heart And Resolved Will Of Man?

The Instructor Can Scarcely Give Sensibility Where It Is Essentially Wanting, Nor Talent To The Unpercipient Block. But He Can Cultivate And Direct The Affections Of The Pupil, Who Puts Forth, As A Parasite, Tendrils By Which To Cling, Not Knowing To What - To A Supporter Or A Destroyer.

Everything Must Have A Beginning ... And That Beginning Must Be Linked To Something That Went Before.

Why Did I Not Die? More Miserable Than Man Ever Was Before, Why Did I Not Sink Into Forgetfulness And Rest? Death Snatches Away Many Blooming Children, The Only Hopes Of Their Doting Parents: How Many Brides And Youthful Lovers Have Been One Day In The Bloom Of Health And Hope, And The Next A Prey For Worms And The Decay Of The Tomb! Of What Materials Was I Made, That I Could Thus Resist So Many Shocks, Which, Like The Turning Of The Wheel, Continually Renewed The Torture? But I Was Doomed To Live.