There Is A Sacredness In Tears

It Is Not Poverty So Much As Pretense That Harasses A Ruined Man - The Struggle Between A Proud Mind And An Empty Purse - The Keeping Up Of A Hollow Show That Must Soon Come To An End.

Into The Space Of One Little Hour Sins Enough May Be Conjured Up By Evil Tongues To Blast The Fame Of A Whole Life Of Virtue.

It Is Not Poverty So Much As Pretense That Harasses A Ruined Man.

Men Are Always Doomed To Be Duped, Not So Much By The Arts Of The Other As By Their Own Imagination. They Are Always Wooing Goddesses, And Marrying Mere Mortals.

I Could Not But Smile To Think In What Out-of-the-way Corners Genius Produces Her Bantlings! And The Muses, Those Capricious Dames, Who, Forsooth, So Often Refuse To Visit Palaces, And Deny A Single Smile To Votaries In Splendid Studies, And Gilded Drawing-rooms--what Holes And Burrows Will They Frequent To Lavish Their Favors On Some Ragged Disciple!