No Words Suffice The Secret Soul To

A Mistress Never Is Nor Can Be A Friend. While You Agree, You Are Lovers; And When It Is Over, Anything But Friends.

On The Ear Drops The Light Drip Of The Suspended Oar.

Man's Conscience Is The Oracle Of God.

Man Is In Part Divine, A Troubled Stream From A Pure Source.

Nothing So Fretful, So Despicable As A Scribbler, See What I Am, And What A Parcel Of Scoundrels I Have Brought About My Ears, And What Language I Have Been Obliged To Treat Them With To Deal With Them In Their Own Way; - All This Comes Of Authorship.