We Can Only Love What We Know.

Fair Venus Shines Even In The Eve Of Day, With Sweetest Beam Propitious Shines, And Shakes A Trembling Flood Of Softened Radiance From Her Dewy Locks.

The Dead Of Midnight Is The Noon Of Thought.

Let Us Confess A Truth, Humiliating To Human Pride; - A Very Small Part Only Of The Opinions Of The Coolest Philosopher Are The Result Of Fair Reasoning; The Rest Are Formed By His Education, His Temperament, By The Age In Which He Lives, By Trains Of Thought Directed To A Particular Track Through Some Accidental Association - In Short, By Prejudice.

Time Deals Gently With Me; And Though I Feel That I Descend, The Slope Is Easy.

It Would Be Difficult To Determine Whether The Age Is Growing Better Or Worse; For I Think Our Plays Are Growing Like Sermons, And Our Sermons Like Plays.