A Pretty Woman Is A Welcome Guest.

Yet He Was Jealous, Though He Did Not Show It, For Jealousy Dislikes The World To Know It.

If I Don't Write To Empty My Mind, I Go Mad. As To That Regular, Uninterrupted Love Of Writing. I Do Not Understand It. I Feel It As A Torture, Which I Must Get Rid Of, But Never As A Pleasure. On The Contrary, I Think Composition A Great Pain.

Go Let Thy Less Than Woman's Hand Assume The Distaff Not The Brand.

They Truly Mourn, That Mourn Without A Witness.

What Is Death, So It Be But Glorious? 'tis A Sunset; And Mortals May Be Happy To Resemble The Gods But In Decay.