Despair And Genius Are Too Oft Connected

Send Me No More Reviews Of Any Kind. I Will Read No More Of Evil Or Good In That Line. Walter Scott Has Not Read A Review Of Himself For Thirteen Years .

Think Not I Am What I Appear.

My Heart In Passion, And My Head On Rhymes.

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

The Sight Of Blood To Crowds Begets The Thirst Of More, As The First Wine-cup Leads To The Long Revel.