Disintegration Is Quite Painless, I Assure You.

Nothing Really Known Can Continue To Be Acutely Fascinating.

If We Were Sensible We Would Seek Death - The Same Blissful Blank Which We Enjoyed Before We Existed.

I Felt Myself On The Edge Of The World; Peering Over The Rim Into A Fathomless Chaos Of Eternal Night.

Blue, Green, Grey, White, Or Black; Smooth, Ruffled, Or Mountainous; That Ocean Is Not Silent.

Every Limited Mind Demands A Certain Freedom Of Expression, And The Man Who Cannot Express Himself Satisfactorily Without The Stimulation Derived From The Spirited Mode Of Two Centuries Ago Should Certainly Be Permitted To Follow Without Undue Restraint A Practice So Harmless, So Free From Essential Error, And So Sanctioned By Precedent, As That Of Employing In His Poetical Compositions The Smooth And Inoffensive Allowable Rhyme.