It Would Be An Endless Task To

Solitude Becomes A Sort Of Tangible Enemy, The More Dangerous, Because It Dwells Within The Citadel Itself.

...once I Falsely Hoped To Meet The Beings Who, Pardoning My Outward Form, Would Love Me For The Excellent Qualities Which I Was Capable Of Unfolding.

...if I See But One Smile On Your Lips When We Meet, Occasioned By This Or Any Other Exertion Of Mine, I Shall Need No Other Happiness.

Oh! Stars And Clouds And Winds, Ye Are All About To Mock Me; If Ye Really Pity Me, Crush Sensation And Memory; Let Me Become As Nought; But If Not, Depart, Depart, And Leave Me In Darkness.

But I Am A Blasted Tree; The Bolt Has Entered My Soul; And I Felt Then That I Should Survive To Exhibit What I Shall Soon Cease To Be - A Miserable Spectacle Of Wrecked Humanity, Pitiable To Others And Intolerable To Myself.