The Love Of Indolence Is Universal, Or

No Man Was Ever Yet A Great Poet, Without Being At The Same Time A Profound Philosopher. For Poetry Is The Blossom And The Fragrance Of All Human Knowledge, Human Thoughts, Human Passions, Emotions, Language.

We Have To Administer The Law Whether We Like It Or No.

Come, Come Thou Bleak December Wind, And Blow The Dry Leaves From The Tree! Flash, Like A Love-thought, Thro'me, Death And Take A Life That Wearies Me.

We Must Follow The Old Authorities And Precedents In Criminal Matters.

O Let Me Be Awake, My God! Or Let Me Sleep Alway.