Greatness And Goodness Are Not Means, But

Death But Supplies The Oil For The Inextinguishable Lamp Of Life.

An Undevout Poet Is An Impossibility.

The Eighth Commandment Was Not Made For Bards.

Joy Is The Sweet Voice, Joy The Luminous Cloud. We In Ourselves Rejoice! And Thence Flows All That Charms Or Ear Or Sight, All Melodies The Echoes Of That Voice, All Colours A Suffusion From That Light.

A Woman In A Single State May Be Happy And May Be Miserable; But Most Happy, Most Miserable, These Are Epithets Belonging To A Wife.