Falsehood Is For A Season.

O What A Thing Is Age! Death Without Death's Quiet.

As There Are Some Flowers Which You Should Smell But Slightly To Extract All That Is Pleasant In Them ... So There Are Some Men With Whom A Slight Acquaintance Is Quite Sufficient To Draw Out All That Is Agreeable; A More Intimate One Would Be Unsafe And Unsatisfactory.

Prose On Certain Occasions Can Bear A Great Deal Of Poetry; On The Other Hand, Poetry Sinks And Swoons Under A Moderate Weight Of Prose.

The Siren Waits Thee, Singing Song For Song.

I Never Did A Single Wise Thing In The Whole Course Of My Existence, Although I Have Written Many Which Have Been Thought So.