Other Men's Crosses Are Not My Crosses.

Women Are Like The Arts, Forced Unto None, Open To All Searchers, Unprized, If Unknown.

Twice Or Thrice Had I Loved Thee Before I Knew Thy Face Or Name, So In A Voice, So In A Shapeless Flame, Angels Affect Us Oft, And Worshiped Be.

I Find No Abhorring In My Appetite.

There Is No Health; Physicians Say That We, At Best, Enjoy But Neutrality.

That Which Attempts To Elevate The Ugly To The Level Of Beauty Becomes Neither; But An Obscenity.