Our Hours In Love Have Wings; In

I Shall Be As Secret As The Grave.

I Know Who I Am And Who I May Be, If I Choose.

For Historians Ought To Be Precise, Truthful, And Quite Unprejudiced, And Neither Interest Nor Fear, Hatred Nor Affection, Should Cause Them To Swerve From The Path Of Truth, Whose Mother Is History, The Rival Of Time, The Depository Of Great Actions, The Witness Of What Is Past, The Example And Instruction Of The Present, The Monitor Of The Future.

My Thoughts Ran A Wool-gathering.

In Hell There Is No Retention.