Gnawing With My Teeth My Bonds In

O God, I Could Be Bound In A Nutshell, And Count Myself A King Of Infinite Space – Were It Not That I Have Bad Dreams.

Go Hang Yourself, You Naughty Mocking Uncle!

Ten Masts Make Not The Altitude Which Thou Hast Perpendicularly Fell. Thy Life's A Miracle.

This Look Of Thine Will Hurl My Soul From Heaven.

We Bring Forth Weeds When Our Quick Minds Lie Still.