Poetry Is The Morning Dream Of Great

Habit With It's Iron Sinews, Clasps Us And Leads Us Day By Day.

Love Is The Enchanted Dawn Of Every Heart.

My Mother Was Convinced, And On This Head I Have Retained Her Firm Belief, That To Kill Animals For The Purpose Of Feeding On Their Flesh Is One Of The Most Deplorable And Shameful Infirmities Of The Human State; That It Is One Of Those Curses Cast Upon Man Either By His Fall, Or By The Obduracy Of His Own Perversity.

Poetry Is The Morning Dream Of Great Minds.

A Conscience Without God Is Like A Court Without A Judge.