Ye Stars! Which Are The Poetry Of

Whatsoever Thy Birth, Thou Wert A Beautiful Thought, And Softly Bodied Forth.

It Is Odd But Agitation Or Contest Of Any Kind Gives A Rebound To My Spirits And Sets Me Up For A Time.

I Deny Nothing, But Doubt Everything.

Lord Of Himself; That Heritage Of Woe!

Out Of Chaos God Made A World, And Out Of High Passions Comes A People.