Have Love. Not Love Alone For One,

I Speak With The Eternal Through The Instrument Of Nature, Through The World's History: I Read The Soul Of The Artist In His Apollo.

It Is Criminal To Steal A Purse, Daring To Steal A Fortune, A Mark Of Greatness To Steal A Crown. The Blame Diminishes As The Guilt Increases.

I Am My Own Heaven And Hell!

There Is Room In The Smallest Cottage For A Happy Loving Pair.

The Storm Is Master. Man, As A Ball, Is Tossed Twixt Winds And Billows.