The Present Is Burthened Too Much With

Mountains Are Earth's Undecaying Monuments.

She Could No Longer Borrow From The Future To Ease Her Present Grief.

The Love Of Science To Rival The Love Of Woman, In Its Depth And Absorbing Energy.

What Is There So Ponderous In Evil, That A Thumb's Bigness Of It Should Outweigh The Mass Of Things Not Evil, Which Were Heaped Into The Other Scale!

In All Her Intercourse With Society, However, There Was Nothing That Made Her Feel As If She Belonged To It... She Stood Apart From Mortal Interests, Yet Close Beside Them, Like A Ghost That Revisits The Familiar Fireside, And Can No Longer Make Itself Seen Or Felt.