The History Of Mankind Is His Character.

I Hold To Faith In The Divine Love - Which, So Many Years Ago For A Brief Moment In A Little Corner Of The Earth, Walked About As A Man Bearing The Name Of Jesus Christ - As The Foundation On Which Alone My Happiness Rests.

God Could Cause Us Considerable Embarrassment By Revealing All The Secrets Of Nature To Us: We Should Not Know What To Do For Sheer Apathy And Boredom.

An Absent Friend Gives Us Friendly Company When We Are Well Assured Of His Happiness.

After All, Poets Shouldn't Be Their Own Interpreters And Shouldn't Carefully Dissect Their Poems Into Everyday Prose; That Would Mean The End Of Being Poets. Poets Send Their Creations Into The World, It Is Up To The Reader, The Aesthetician, And The Critic To Determine What They Wanted To Say With Their Creations.

Woe To Falsehood! It Affords No Relief To The Breast, Like Truth; It Gives Us No Comfort, Pains Him Who Forges It, And Like An Arrow Directed By A God Flies Back And Wounds The Archer.